


Change of Engagement

by Vocarin



Category: Persona 3
Genre: Action & Romance, Drama & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-04 23:07:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 295,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14030838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vocarin/pseuds/Vocarin
Summary: Snippets and pieces of Persona 3, showing Death's host and the Kirijo heiress and that sometimes one's own humanity is enough to make a difference. That absolute destruction isn't enough to stop one simple truth. That two in harmony surpasses one in perfection.





	1. Salute

 

It was the simple truth of the world that some things were too complicated to thrive on their own. Governments, education, cities, businesses, and people all bowed to this universal rule. Weaknesses had to be shored up, strengths needed direction, and inexperience required tutelage. No man was an island, and only fools believed that standing strong meant standing alone. People needed other people. It was this simple philosophy that greeted him every day he entered his office. The same belief that he stopped to look at each morning, scribed and emblazoned on the surface of his office desk, an eight-legged monstrosity made of dark oak and polished like dress shoes every second day.

Two in harmony surpasses one in perfection.

His scowl deepened beneath his eye patch. It was this belief that his own father could never accept. The man believed in himself, certainly, but only in himself, no matter how many people had given everything to help him succeed. That egomania drove him to the insanity that was Shadow research, an end pursued without any regard for the high cost that came with it. The cost that they were all still paying with interest.

Kirijo Takeharu growled to himself, pushing the memories away as he made his way through the tall doors behind his desk. Only one light on the wall greeted him as he moved through his inner sanctum – it was too early for most of the staff to be there yet, and there was something to be done that didn’t involve them. If the corporation was like a person, then it needed its separate parts to function properly, especially somewhere that the decisions were made and the information was passed on from one part of the body to the next. In this case, the skull and the brain.

He tossed his coat onto the back of his chair and tapped a number of keys on the elaborate computer bank. It was cutting edge, probably the most advanced of its kind that he could afford to have in his own office, along with its twin in the spare room at the Dorm. But it was enough to serve its purpose. Lights flickered, text ran the length and breadth of the screen, and the innards of his comm. station clicked and hummed with life. “Iwatodai Dormitory,” he told the voice-printed hardware. “Find me Ikutsuki.”

It took two seconds of computing and a fraction of that to send the message. The remaining nine minutes were spent waiting for the dorm’s guardian and director to actually answer the call. Granted, the call was at a far earlier time than their scheduled reports, but the man was often so deep in his research that he never left his floor of the dorm, let alone the actual building, so contacting him was usually a sure thing.

“Kirijo-san,” the administrator finally said, stepping into the field of view of the dorm’s comm. station cameras. He looked alert, but the early hour was easy enough to see in his rumpled suit and frayed hair that had escaped a brief and hurried brushing. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

First thing in the morning, before even the most dedicated salary men were awake, and he was still sharp. Takeharu didn’t compliment many people (so few actually deserved it), but for all Ikutsuki’s self-effacing behaviours and intense research, he adapted well to situations. “Some details have arisen, and they couldn’t wait until we spoke next to address. Additionally, you should be lauded for handling the dorm and the Iwatodai situation as well as you have. I hear Mitsuru and Akihiko are preparing for future explorations and operations in Tartarus. It’s reassuring that you’ve adapted to the changes so smoothly.”

Ikutsuki bowed a little at the compliment. “Thank you, sir. It’s been an honour to be part of this project. But I confess, we owe much of it to Mitsuru-san. She has a gift for organizing the others, and Akihiko-kun respects her.”

“Of course. Commend her on her performance when you have the chance,” Takeharu told him. “Also, make sure the others are made aware: you’ll be receiving a new guest in the next week. The paperwork will be attended to on this end, but his placement and activities once he arrives will be your responsibility.”

Ikutsuki’s eyes widened slightly before narrowing in thought behind his glasses. “A new guest? Would this ‘guest’ happen to–“

Takeharu shook his head, cutting the man off. “I’ll give the details when Mitsuru arrives. There’s no need to say this twice.”

An icon on the comm. screen flashed in the corner, indicating another person in the room. Had she just arrived? Or perhaps she’d been there the entire time. She never missed the details, especially when they were under her own roof. “I’m here, Father,” she told him as she stepped into sight. “Is there something specific about this guest you wanted to address?”

He saw often saw her for their regular status reports, but every time he could was a gift, so he allowed himself a moment to take her in, dressed and alert even this early. She looked… strong. Tall, in control, and a gleam of intelligence in those eyes that always reminded him of her mother. Eimi… “He has the potential,” Takeharu told them, pushing the memory aside to deal with the matter at hand. “He was identified ten years ago and has been under the Group’s care since then. We’ve been monitoring his progress up to now, and with Tartarus appearing, it’s time to see what he can do.”

“I’ve never heard of such a person, sir,” Ikutsuki pointed out. “If he has the potential, why was he not tested earlier? Do we even know how far his abilities go? Has he manifested a Persona yet?”

Mitsuru had stared at the screen, gathering and processing the information before speaking, never so much as a hitch in her voice. “How did we become aware of him? This is the first I’ve heard of anyone like this as well.”

The Kirijo chairman glanced over at the open dossier next to him, left from the night before, but didn’t bother reading it – he knew its contents well enough. “Arisato Minato. He lost his parents in a car crash on the Moonlight Bridge ten years ago. After the incident, his assessors felt he was too psychologically fragile to check for any clear sign of ability. When he was old enough to be tested, some of the results were inconclusive, while others showed that he has power, but hasn’t manifested a Persona yet. Because of this, he was relegated as a lower priority until now. He’s become quite capable, and potential for another Persona-user cannot be ignored. Since he didn’t respond to the tests before, there’s little reason to think that will change now. That’s why he’s coming to you. Maybe the Shadows and Tartarus will bring out in him what the labs couldn’t.”

“It would make sense to have other combatants to draw from should something happen,” Ikutsuki mused. “While Akihiko-kun is displaying more progress than expected, Yukari-san still isn’t a viable combatant yet. Thus our explorations of Tartarus have been sparse at best.”

“So Takeba is still there,” Takeharu noted aloud, as though he didn’t already know. “Good. How well is she performing?”

“She’s struggling with her Evoker,” Mitsuru informed him simply. “She understands the need for it, but is having trouble pulling the trigger. She shows a great deal of determination when I’ve spoken to her, however, so I do believe that she’ll take that step when it’s necessary.”

“What else do we know about Arisato?” Ikutsuki inquired. “Is there anything we should be aware of when he arrives?”

“I’ll send you the file,” the chairman promised. “As far as necessities and preferences go, he’s not very demanding. He’s shown an aptitude for academics and sports, makes friends when he applies himself, and has consistently performed well on the tests we’ve arranged for him. There have been some concerns surrounding his social expressiveness, however.”

“How so?”

“Arisato’s been consistently described as very monotone,” he explained. “His facial expressions don’t change much in relation to his mood. Since we first began observing him, he’s never shown frustration or anger even when he got into fights. He’s also never talked much about his parents or family up to the accident, and the assessors have noted that his voice doesn’t change much in conversation. A consistent observation is that he has a sharp sense of humour, so their interest in him remains strong but inconclusive.”

Mitsuru crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. “They even tested his voice?”

Her father nodded. “They wanted to check his memories and measure his sociability, and while all his assessments show him as intelligent and functional, he’s known for being very subdued in his facial expressions, even when he’s engaged with whatever he’s working on. His handlers noted that even when he was making jokes, his expressions, to use their words, seem muted.”

“Those are some considerable lengths to go to for one student,” Ikutsuki ventured. “Did they suspect that he might be suffering from trauma from the accident? And were there any signs that he might be hiding something or misleading them?”

Takeharu glanced to the side as his computer clock flashed. Nearly time to go. “Every evaluator he’s seen has raised that possibility, but there’s no proof. He hasn’t reported having nightmares, and follow-up sessions suggest he’s not suffering from PTSD. We don’t have any records of him prior to the accident, so it could be that he’s always been a social anomaly. And there’ve been no signs of him hiding any tendencies consistent with depression or psychological disorders. It’s possible that he simply has a different threshold compared to normal people. Regardless, Mitsuru, I leave his handling to you. He should be a valuable asset under the right circumstances, so do what you can.”

“Of course, Father. We’ll look after him.”

She looked about to say something else, but he stood up from his chair. “I’ll be in touch for your next report. Be safe until then.” And he cut the connection before grabbing his coat from the back of his chair and heading for the door. There were meetings to attend to, people to see, and competitors to deal with. His time with his daughter was over – work awaited.

 

* * *

  
One might think that being born with blue hair meant he’d be a magnet for strange things. Up until now, that hadn’t been the case. In fact, he was arguably pretty normal despite his curious colouring. That wasn’t to say that nothing happened at all, of course. Just that it never hit him all at once. He’d had weird days before now. But tests at the clinic that involved him listening to continuous loops of J-Pop and Western orchestral music, questions on how he felt around guns, and regular inquiries on his dreams and any memories he felt like talking about had made up the majority of them. Even being informed that he was moving to Tatsumi Port Island and enrolling in a new school for no clear reason, while odd, didn’t qualify as ‘strange’.

Complimentary train rides across the country and piles of paperwork to transfer to a new residence, that was all he expected. But pools of blood that hadn’t been there before and his earphones cutting out when the night went hazy and green proved that his previous experiences couldn’t even scratch the surface of weirdness. He’d wanted to credit his music dying out to his new batteries (that stupid pink bunny could choke on that drum set – they stopped ‘going’ pretty early for him) and blame the green haze on local pollution or the in-transit meal he’d forced down. But that didn’t explain the weird glow that the moon held. Or all the upright coffins along the streets as he followed his directions. Or his cell phone dying when he checked the time. Or the glowing slivers of light following the shimmering blue butterfly he’d almost run into once he’d turned the corner a few blocks from his destination. His fluttering friend circled him a few times, then continued down the street he was planning on following. By then he was numb to the weirdness surrounding him and was just going with it, so all he could do was shrug and go after it. They were going the same direction, and maybe he’d be able to find some people and some answers.

Of course, what small sense of normalcy he’d attained by following a flying blue insect was trashed by the kid behind the desk insisting on his signature. And that ‘contract’ didn’t look like the waivers and dorm residency papers he’d signed before he got on the train. His fluttering friend, big surprise, was nowhere to be seen. The kid kept quiet when Minato asked what the forms were for (so much for getting those answers), and just repeated his instructions in that same weird voice when asked about the coffins or the green haze outside or where the butterfly was. For how serious the kid was taking his job, Minato had been about to ask if he should sign the contract in his own blood, but the creepy vibe he got from Junior’s pale eyes kept his mouth shut – he probably wouldn’t like the answer if the kid took him seriously. And the little vanishing act that the kid pulled right after he got his signature made Minato especially glad that he didn’t ask.

But at least the power was back on. He winced against the lights snapping back on and had just grabbed his bags, about to call out and ask if anyone was home and who was to blame for the blackout, when he heard a strangled gasp paired with a distinct click. He snapped still and felt ice shiver down his spine. He looked over slowly, noting the slender brunette he hadn’t seen come down the stairs, and the pale blue handgun she was clutching in two shaking hands. The handgun she was pointing at him.

Great. Just great. Like being tossed out a plane, having his fall broken by a flock of geese, and landing in a pool of fajita sauce to be served to cannibalistic circus performers.

“Don’t worry; it’s not loaded.”

Says the kid who vanishes into the walls and dresses like an escaped convict. And a little more warning would’ve been nice next time. Or even an introduction – he wasn’t picky.

Yeah, thanks Junior. Big help.

So he tried for as much tact as he could, considering the situation. “Uh, hi there.” She didn’t answer. Just kept shaking and staring at him like he’d stepped out of her nightmares. Minato held his hands out as non-threateningly as he could and reminded himself not to move. “I’m not going to hurt you, you know. I’m not sure if I can from back here. See?”

She finally took a breath and started speaking. “D… don’t…”

“Takeba!”

The girl flinched, and for a moment it looked like she’d shoot him accidentally. But she pulled the gun back and holstered it in a frantic rush instead.

So… no gun now. No coffins, no green haze or weird moon or blue butterflies or disappearing kids. Finally, he let out a breath and stepped back to the desk by the door. Once his heart rate settled to a nice, moderate 400 beats per minute, he looked at the two ladies who were staring at him curiously. The brunette was of average height and dressed in runners and a pink sweater. She looked surprisingly fresh considering how late it was. There was a red armband on her left sleeve, but he couldn’t see the wording on it. She was cute enough, and was probably pretty popular when she wasn’t using her fellow man for target practice.

But it was the other girl that caught his eye. Tall, especially in those boots, pale skin that suited the pressed shirt she wore, calm features and long red hair that rested partway down her front and back and matched the ribbon tied in a bow at her collar very nicely. And her eyes were almost the same shade as her hair, gleaming with a maturity and personal control that he couldn’t help but notice. Close as he could tell, she was around his age, maybe a year older, and she commanded the room just by being in it. He couldn’t blame Takeba for following her orders - she certainly had his attention, and he didn’t even know her name.

“I apologize for that,” the redhead told him calmly, gesturing to her calming companion. “We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow morning. And things have been tense in the neighbourhood lately, so Takeba takes dorm security very seriously.”

“Seriously enough to warrant firearms in the hands of high school students?” he asked as calmly as he could, which, he’d been told, was somewhere between ‘placid’ and ‘dead.’

“It’s quite a story,” she replied smoothly. “But the lobby isn’t the best place for such a discussion. Come in and make yourself comfortable. This is Takeba Yukari, and I’m Kirijo Mitsuru. Welcome to the Iwatodai Dormitory. You must be Arisato Minato.”

“That’s right. It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” he told them as he bowed as best he could, loaded down with his bags. “And I appreciate the welcome; so far it’s been the most memorable part of my day.”

“Uh… sorry about that,” Yukari mumbled before trying to find something to do with her hands, caught between putting them in her pockets or crossing them or linking them behind her back. “It’s been a rough week, and I thought… well, sorry.”

“No problem. I guess.” He let a breath out and looked around for the kid again. “It could have been a lot worse, and I thought they would have sent my schedule ahead of time. By the way, whose little brother was that?”

“Who?” Yukari asked, looking around. Junior hadn’t reappeared since the lights came back on. Figures. Maybe he was shy?

“None of the residents have any siblings,” Mitsuru informed him, a curious edge to her stare. “And no one here is under 16. What did he look like?”

Minato gave a quick description, adding “He was sitting at the desk when I got here, and asked me to sign a contract. Seemed pretty insistent, so I just assumed he was filling in for someone.” Never mind that vanishing into thin air like the Cheshire Cat himself was a pretty hard act to follow. If they didn’t know about the kid, then they probably wouldn’t believe him if he shared those particular details.

“We’ll keep an eye out for him,” Mitsuru assured him, turning and raising a hand toward the stairs. “But you must be tired after today. I’ll show you to your room, and we’ll cover the details in the morning.”

 

* * *

  
‘Covering the details’ was a pretty broad way of putting it, because the details that were covered pertained to the mundane matter of the dorm. Things like where his room was, how to get to his new school, and making sure he had the right keys. Mitsuru-senpai, as open as she was to his questions, didn’t answer the issue that had been on his mind since the power came back on that night: who trusted a teenager with a handgun, and what was she so afraid of that she’d pull it on the new guy if they were expecting him to be there?

Well, that was two questions. And there was a third one on his mind: whose idea was it to stock the fridge with nothing but protein drinks, spinach-leaf salad, and pocky? Where was the milk and eggs and bread? Why was there pocky in the fridge in the first place, and whose was it?

But whatever questions he had after breakfast, Ikutsuki, the dorm administrator and proud owner of the plainest suits and weirdest jokes this side of Hong Kong, had done a good job in diverting his attention or simply giving answers that didn’t address the matter at hand. When he’d been about to push harder, a silver-haired teen arrived at the breakfast table, protein drink and school bag in hand, to inform him that they needed to be off to school. Sanada Akihiko had introduced himself when Minato came down for breakfast, then headed back into the dorm until now. Ikutsuki mentioned it was for training.

“Everything should be taken care of with the school administrators, but stop by the main office to make sure,” Mitsuru told him as he and Akihiko were leaving.

Minato stopped to bow to her politely – of all the people he’d met so far, it felt like she deserved the respect the most. “Thanks, Kirijo-senpai.”

She gave a light chuckle at his formality. “We’re going to be living in the same dorm now, so there’s no need to be so formal. Just ‘Mitsuru’ will be fine.”

“Ah. Mitsuru-senpai then.” It had a nice ring to it, and she nodded in response.

“We’re gonna be late,” Akihiko called from the door. Minato grabbed his bags and headed out with the pale teen. He didn’t seem the sort to enjoy repeating himself, so Minato focused on his words and didn’t talk much. Akihiko covered topics like the dorm’s policies on curfew, the layout of Tatsumi Port Island, and other such useful facts. Just like that morning, no handguns were mentioned, and he gave Minato a sharp look when he asked about any criminal incidents in the neighbourhood. Down the streets, on the train, along the walkways that led to school, he committed what his senpai said to memory.

“Takeba should be here already. We’ve asked her to show you to your homeroom and help you get set up,” Akihiko told him as they approached the school. “You’re both in the same class, so just follow her lead until you get a feel for the place. I have some things to take care of before first class.”

Akihiko’s and Mitsuru’s use of Yukari’s name was something Minato had noticed at breakfast. “She doesn’t seem the sort to get stuck on manners and formalities. Is there a reason you call her by her family name?”

He chuckled and shifted his school bag before responding. “I guess you could call it familiarity. Or the lack of it, in her case. She hasn’t been at the dorm very long, and she’s pretty distant around me and Mitsuru.” Minato noted that despite the formality he used with Yukari’s name, Mitsuru-senpai was different. Interesting. “Trouble adjusting, I guess. But I’ve gotta run, so I’ll see you back at the dorm if not on break.”

“You too, Akihiko-senpai. And thanks for everything.”

He gave a wave in response, and Minato looked up to see his new school for the first time. It was clean and well built, and remarkably efficient on space, at least from the outside. He’d heard that the Kirijo Group commissioned it, and thought it an unusual act of charity for a corporate entity to give a school to society. Surprising, and quite human. His surprise died off when he saw their same efficiency in the front doors and the steps leading up to them, the wide walkway bordered by stone-walled flowerbeds and deep benches. The entire place felt professionally planned out.

Minato let the view wash over him and hadn’t moved since Akihiko had gone into the school. Otherwise he might have noticed how some of the other students were whispering to themselves and pointing at him. He’d gotten as far as thinking of how well the view of the building was complimented by the windmills behind it when he was brought back to rude reality by someone crashing into him from behind. Hard. He barely kept his footing, and when he turned, sore back and shoulders and all, he tried to chew out to the girl he saw staring at him. “Was that necessa–“

“Are you friends with Akihiko-senpai?!” Her eyes were already wide, but only got more so when she leaned closer to him. If she thought her nearly knocking him over was at all a problem, it didn’t show.

His anger guttered out like a soaked candle. She hadn’t taken the hint from his glare; instead she had a fervent, arguably crazed, intensity about her that he tried to get away from. But she followed. He stepped back again, and she followed again. And every time he tried to back away and glare her off, she only got closer. “Look, You need t–“

“What!?” another girl shrieked, rushing up to him. “You’re friends with him?! What’s he like off campus? How do you know him?!”

“I don’t really–“

“But he talked to you! That has to mean something! How long have you known each other? He mentioned a dorm, so do you live with him?!”

And of course, because misery loves company and company brings friends, several guys couldn’t be bothered to have their discussion elsewhere. Like, twenty feet away and out of earshot. “Hey, didn’t Yukari-san move into the same dorm as Akihiko-senpai?”

“That’s what I heard,” his friend replied. And Minato could feel the eyes turning on him. He wasn’t in a rush to get to homeroom, but suddenly the front doors, less than thirty feet in front of him, looked very appealing. And felt very far away.

“Whoa, dude, you live with Takeba Yukari? What’s she like? C’mon, tell us!”

Tact and manners became much less of a priority at that point. “There’s nothing to say,” Minato growled, pushing past the students toward the school.

“Oh come on! You live with her so you must know some things about her, right? You can’t just leave us hanging!”

“Same with Akihiko-senpai! Just a little bit. Please?!”

Minato ditched the idea of making a good impression on the first day and began shoving past them, pointedly telling them all to get out of the way. Finally, he managed to escape them, switching shoes on the fly and taking the first empty seat he could find in his homeroom. He took a few minutes to shake the ringing from his ears and make sure none of them had followed him in. That was… unexpected. He hadn’t known Akihiko-senpai would be so popular with the girls. And while Yukari’s apparently stellar reputation confirmed what he’d assumed before, he wasn’t expecting their respective fan clubs to be so… enthusiastic. Next thing he knew, they’d be begging him to carry letters or to be their go-between for dates and meetings. He pulled out his books and sighed. It would be hard to hide, too – being the new transfer student, and a distinctive one at that, meant anonymity was going to be in short supply.

But at least with all the attention on those two, he didn’t have to worry about students flooding his shoebox with love letters or having to fight off romantic rivals just because he was the new guy. He knew he was good looking, but he didn’t need a horde of girls following him. He liked things when they were uncomplicated and straightforward. And he’d work to keep his school life that way, because nothing was worth that much drama. Nothing. If he ever had to put up with that much teenage clinginess and drool again, he swore to shoot himself in the head. Maybe Yukari would lend him her gun if it came to that.

 

* * *

 

It was that night that he got his chance.

As though being woken up in the middle of the night and running from something climbing up the dorm walls wasn’t bad enough. Or that his senpai had sent them up the stairs where, no surprise, there weren’t any other ways down when their pursuers were hammering at the windows. No, instead he’d gotten onto the roof with Yukari to see the things that were chasing them clear the wall and close in around them.

For the first time in longer than he could remember, he was scared stiff. The masks, the way the blobs moved. And those swords, very real swords. Yukari’s explanation rang hollow in his ears, and he couldn’t move even when she was knocked from her feet.

He could feel their stare land on him, shivering up one side of his body and down the other. He knew they were looking at him. Not with eyes; there were no eyes. But with something else. Something that was instinctual and… familiar.

They…

They were Shadows. And he knew where they were vulnerable.

The fear died off and his legs felt loose. Yukari’s gun lay at his feet and everything began to slow down. The night became painfully bright, like every colour was hitting his eyes four times harder than normal. The sound of them shuffling, closer. Closer. The smell of pollution and night mist coated his lungs, the taste of adrenaline and copper. Everything intensified, like he’d chewed on a lightning bolt. It all merged in front of him, halting time while a second pulse pumped through his veins. A second heartbeat, thudding in his ears. One beat. Two. Two more. He looked above the monster in the lead, and he saw it. Hovering, translucent, limned in light as hazy as the moon above them, was a man holding a lyre. But he was more than a man. Standing. Waiting. And Minato understood him without hearing a word.

You… You want to help? You can fight them? He knew he was right in his guess, and he knew what to do.

Despite how strongly he felt everything around him, on the inside he was at the heart of the void. Everything he was seeing should have scored a 48 on his 15-point ‘weirdness’ scale. His first night in town hadn’t even come close. But he wasn’t scared now. He could almost feel Yukari’s fear from where she was. Not him. No fear as he bent his knees and reached down. No curiosity when he felt his hand wrap around the grip of the gun she’d dropped. No nothing at the moment he raised it to his temple, leaning into the cool, smooth metal against his heated skin.

The world flashed white before his eyes. And there he was again. Appearing as fast as he’d vanished before. The smile on his pale face was macabre like a stripped skull, eyes as dull as those of gargoyles on a cemetery gate. “Go on.”

I’m getting there, Junior.

There was something else, a dark, murky shadow around his vision that had nothing to do with the monsters moving toward him. The sound of wind whistling through barren branches. The smell of grave dirt and granite. A cold touch on his soul that he recognized but couldn’t place. Through it all, the man with the lyre, Orpheus, hovered there. Staring at him. Waiting on him. All he had to do was… You’re it, aren’t you? You’re my “Per.. so.. na!”

His mind shattered when he pulled the trigger.

 

* * *

  
Arisato Minato had never indulged in drugs or alcohol before, especially with the Kirijo Group watching him so closely, so he couldn’t compare waking up the next morning to a hangover. But if having one felt like he did when he woke up, as though his stomach was churning like a washing machine and his head had gotten stuck in a train’s main engine, then he swore off ever touching the stuff from that point on. The cars outside sounded like passing hurricanes, the sunlight from the nearby window was jamming needles into his eyes when he opened them, and the clean smell of antiseptic and fresh cotton sheets was about to make him sick. All he could do was curl up on the bed and hope to keep his dinner down and dignity intact.

“How’re you feeling?”

Yukari. He cringed and curled up more, trying to push out the noise. Just thinking her name hurt. “Don’t,” he rasped, and even doing that was enough to make him want to cry. “Too bright. Not so loud.”

“Oh, sorry,” she told him quietly, and the sunlight was cut out by her drawing the blinds shut. Then he heard her walk across the room and flick some switches, and the room’s lights dimmed down. “Guess you’re still feeling it, huh?” she inquired as he let out a breath of relief and cracked his eyes enough to see her.

“That’s a word for it,” he replied, slowly propping himself up and leaning back against the pillows. “I don’t spose you got the number of the truck that hit me, did you? Or the driver’s name?”

She looked at him oddly as she retook her seat in the chair next to his bed. “Uh, there wasn’t a truck. You do remember what happened last night, right?”

Killjoy. “Yeah, I remember what happened,” he sighed. “I was just trying not to.”

“Right. Sorry. If it helps, it was a little funny.” Too bad she didn’t sound the least bit amused. “But Mitsuru-senpai and Ikutsuki-san wanted a clear idea of how you’re feeling and what you remember, so I just had to make sure.”

Minato grunted as he shifted on the bed, trying to get comfortable before giving her his report. “Fair enough. I remember those things with the masks attacking us on the dorm roof and grabbing that guns of yours. I pulled the trigger, and that’s where things get weird. Was that normal for using one of those things?”

She looked a little startled, perhaps not expecting him to respond so quickly or to question her so soon. “Uh, I’m not sure about ‘normal’, even for an Evoker or using your Persona for the first time. But you haven’t answered my first question – how’re you feeling?”

Better now that the lights were down and his stomach settled. Didn’t help his headache though. “Like half the bones in my body were broken and rearranged. And like my head’s being used as a basketball in the semi-finals,” he replied with as much cheer as he could. “Other than that, pretty terrible.”

She blinked owlishly at him, then smiled and settled into her chair. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re pretty unusual,” she told him finally. “I thought you’d be a lot more serious or quiet. Especially after last night. I mean, most people wouldn’t be joking about it. Or as calm about it as you are.”

“I get that a lot.”

“Well, thanks for the help. Sorry I choked up like that.”

He brushed it aside, as much as his arm and hand would allow. “It is pretty insane to shoot yourself in the head, even to bring out a… what did you call it? A Persona? And that Evoker looks like a handgun; I doubt anyone’s crazy enough to pull the trigger without a sweating it a little. So I can’t blame you for that.”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it,” she pointed out.

No, and that should have been worrying by itself. He knew he had a skewed view on how he should react sometimes, but turning a gun on himself and pulling the trigger was a new extreme, even for him. But Yukari didn’t need to know that. “And I get more impressive the longer you know me,” he told her with a smirk that felt like his face was being broken in half.

“And modest too,” she replied dryly. “Thanks again, and I’m glad you’re awake. I should let the others know you’re awake.”

He rested back and closed his eyes. “Works for me,” he told her through a yawn.

He heard her rise from her chair, but she’d barely made it around his bed before she stopped. “Hey, one last question.” She sounded serious.

His stomach was starting to settle, but he didn’t want to risk agitating it again so he didn’t turn to look at her. “Shoot.”

“I heard that you know a bit about the Kirijo Group. That they’ve been part of your life for a while, and that’s why you’re here now.”

He chuckled without opening his eyes. “That’s an awkward way of putting it. But yeah, they’ve looked out for me since my family died.”

She paused for a moment, and her tone was a little shaky when she spoke again. “Oh, jeez. I’m really sorry about that. Last thing you need right now is someone bringing up bad memories.”

“It’s alright. The accident happened a long time ago, and I don’t remember much about it. Why the curiosity about the Kirijo Group? I mean, you’ve lived with the chairman’s daughter longer than I have.”

“Uh… well, Mitsuru-senpai’s always pretty busy, with school and dorm business, that sort of thing. So she wouldn’t have time to answer small questions, you know? But you’ve got more history with them than I do, so I thought you might know something about the Group. Or maybe you’d met her. Before now, that is.”

Liar. He didn’t even need to see her expressions to pick up her nervousness. And why would she sound so serious about him knowing about the Group if it was idle curiosity? “Gotcha. No, I never knew Mitsuru-senpai before I moved here. The most exposure I ever had to the Group was medical check-ups and them giving me a place to live. I never got involved in their businesses or plans before now.”

“I see. Well, thanks. And I hope you feel better.” She was out the door before he could reply. Touchy, that one. She didn’t sound happy with his answers. That said, she didn’t seem too warm toward anything related to the Kirijo Group, and it wouldn’t surprise him if he was on that list as well.

His last thought before he nodded off was how little that idea bothered him.

 

* * *

  
Despite how awful he’d felt after waking up, Minato was back on his feet just a few hours after Yukari left. For how much pain he was in, it didn’t last long. A battery of tests and a few explanations from Ikutsuki and Mitsuru-senpai later, he was leaving the hospital in the clothes he’d been wearing the night before and admiring the sunset as he hoofed it back to the dorm, turning down offers for a ride and saying he wanted to stretch and exercise after half a day of forced bed rest. Ikutsuki had met him at the doors when he entered and caught up with him on what’d happened the night before.

“It would be better if Mitsuru-san talked to you about all that,” he replied when Minato started pushing for answers. “It’s something she knows more about and can explain easier than I can, and Akihiko-san mentioned that there might be another student joining us soon. If so, then it would make more sense to address the matter once with everyone, correct?”

It was hard to refute the man’s logic, and Minato wasn’t about to push Mitsuru-senpai on the matter. Instead he threw together a meal light enough to handle and salty enough to cleanse his palette of the taste of hospital food before turning in and sleeping for eleven uninterrupted hours.

When Minato caught up with Akihiko-senpai the next day, any questions relating to the new student living in the dorm were met with the response ‘no clear answer yet.’ And it wasn’t until that evening that the answer arrived in the form of Akihiko-senpai holding the door open for a teenager Minato recognized from school, wheeling in several boxes and bags and carefully working over the door threshold.

“This is Iori Junpei,” his senpai introduced the cart-laden teen who steadied his load long enough to bow at the introduction. “I ran into him the other day, and it seems he’s got the potential. When I explained the situation, he volunteered to join us. We just got the arrangements and details worked out earlier today.”

“And here I am!” Junpei added once Akihiko was finished. His eyes lit up a little when he saw Yukari, who’d been trying to conceal a look of resignation from them all. “Hey, Yuka-tan. So it seems we’ll be roommates now, huh?”

“Hey Junpei,” she replied as kindly as she could, though Minato caught the “why did it have to be him?” in tone easily enough. “Well, we’ll see what happens. The standards are a little strange, so it might be that this isn’t your thing.”

“Trying to get rid of him already?” Minato inquired as he pushed off the wall. Yukari sputtered a response while Junpei laughed and adjusted his ball cap. “Arisato Minato,” he introduced himself smoothly. “Seems we’re in this together.”

Junpei reached out and shook his hand when offered. “Cool! Good to see you again. And you’re living with Mitsuru-senpai and Yuka-tan.” He tossed a wink over Minato’s shoulder and pretended he didn’t hear the groan from Yukari. “Not bad for the new guy.”

“Seems like I was born under a lucky sign,” Minato replied calmly. “Or an unlucky one. It’s hard to tell half the time.”

“But you’re living here, dude,” Junpei pointed out. “That’s gotta count for being lucky, right?”

Minato kept to himself the fact that he’d woken up the morning before in a hospital wishing he’d died. He was about to comment on how residency at the dorm came with the added perks of fighting monsters, summoning supernatural beasts, and having guns pointed at him in the first week, and that wasn’t even including Ikutsuki’s jokes or the weird stuff they had in the fridge, but he was interrupted when the administrator made his appearance. Introductions were finalized and Mitsuru-senpai herded them toward the couches in the foyer. “Now that everyone knows each other, it’s time you learned what we do here and why you’re a part of it,” she told them, standing at the centre of attention.

Ikutsuki and the senpai explained and the kouhai listened. The Dark Hour. Tartarus. SEES, their Evokers, the Shadows and Personas. Apathy Syndrome and The Lost. Minato kept his mouth shut and let the information sink in. It didn’t take long (it never did) and he turned to examine the others when he was finished. It seemed Yukari had heard the details before, or knew enough that she wasn’t as surprised as Junpei, in any case. Despite that, there was still a hint of suspicion on her face, and Minato was reminded of her questions the other day. What had the Kirijo done to her? Being curious about the Group was one thing, but this was looking like bad blood. Junpei, on the other hand, had a look of intense focus on his face as he turned what they’d been told over in his mind.

“Well?” Akihiko gestured impatiently after a few minutes.

“This is crazy,” Junpei muttered.

“I dunno,” Minato replied calmly, leaning back with ankles crossed. “It makes sense. The Dark Hour cutting out electronics, normal people ending up in coffins so they don’t see the change, Shadows hunting people and Personas being used to fight them. Considering what happened the other night, I’m ready to accept that much.”

“Do you believe everything you’re told this easily?” Yukari groused from beside him.

“Just the things I see firsthand that put me in the hospital. I mean, it’s no crazier than having a gun pointed at me that doesn’t fire bullets.”

“I told you: that was an accident,” she snapped with a glare. “Would you please stop bringing it up?”

“This is deep,” Junpei told them, a little louder this time. “I mean, we’re high school students. The most any of us had to worry about was test scores and part-time jobs, and now we’re supposed to be a kill squad for Shadows?” He looked over at Minato, who’d been watching their senpai curiously. “C’mon, you think this is crazy, don’t you? It could be like they say it is, but it could be something else, right?”

Minato noticed that none of the other three looked offended or surprised that doubts had been raised, and he shrugged in response. “Sure. It could be a lot of other things, or a mix of a bunch of unrelated things all happening at once. But I don’t have a different explanation for them that makes more sense.” He cocked an eyebrow as he looked to the side, and Junpei’s expression said he didn’t have one either. “I can’t comment on The Lost, but I was wondering what would’ve happened to us if we hadn’t killed those things the other night. And them leaving a brain-dead husk behind is as good an answer as any.”

“I’m glad you’re seeing the sense in fighting them,” Mitsuru-senpai told him, her first time to speak since the explanations were made. “It’s not something we can just allow to continue unchecked. The Shadows need to be stopped, and Persona-users are the best way to fight them.”

“I am curious if there are other ways of doing that,” Minato mentioned. “It doesn’t seem like they’ll come at us one at a time, and even with five of us, there’s no guarantee there won’t be more than we can handle with just our Personas. I’d rather not end up out of commission for a day every time we get into a fight.”

“Dude,” Junpei muttered in disbelief, “they’re talking about fighting monsters by shooting ourselves in the head with things that look like guns. Is this really your first time hearing all this stuff? Because you’re way too calm.”

Mitsuru-senpai stared at Minato calmly, ignoring Junpei’s words. “You’re concerned about your own Persona and the reaction you had the other night. I admit, that surprised us as well. I’ve never seen such a strong reaction before.”

“We looked at the footage,” Akihiko-senpai added when Minato’s brow creased a little, “and as near as we can tell, your case is unique and pretty rare. First-time summonings are always risky, and we think you just put too much into it. That’s what caused the backlash. With practice, I don’t think you’ll have that problem again. But let us know if things go weird on you, alright? An out-of-control Persona’s not a joke.”

“But we are going to have a backup, right?”Junpei asked, finally moving past the shock. “I mean, we can’t count on our Personas for everything. So we’re gonna need grenade launchers and automatics to make sure we finish the Shadows off.”

“I’d hate to find out who you plan on getting to carry all the ammo for that,” Minato replied. “Not to mention that those are noisy and heavy. And I wouldn’t want to risk putting live rounds in my Evoker – gave me enough of a headache by itself last time.”

“We’re not using guns,” Akihiko-senpai told them. “It’s too impractical with all the paperwork and questions people ask. But there are other things we can use besides our Personas.”

“Like what?” Yukari asked.

The two senpai shared a look then gestured for the three kouhai to follow them up the stairs. Ikutsuki excused himself from the group, citing a need for more research now that they had more members. Once they reached the second floor and turned right, they were led to a polished oak door that had several locks on it. Mitsuru-senpai reached into a skirt pocket and pulled out a key ring before selecting one and unlocking a lock, then using another key for a different lock, and so on until she was finished. Then she opened the door and stepped through, snapping on the lights and gesturing for them to follow. Minato let the others go in first, and was suddenly glad he had – when he saw what the room contained, he stopped in place.

Weapons. Lots and lots of weapons. Bows and quivers of arrows, spears and nunchaku, several racks of fighting gauntlets and cestuses and spiked gloves, a couple battle axes and heavy knives, and entire stands filled with swords. Katanas and epees and claymores and sabres, blades of all makes and cultures, clean and sheathed and sitting patiently along the wall. On a table, half-concealed in a locked wood and glass case, were the same pale blue guns that Minato remembered seeing Yukari handle. Their Evokers. Minato expected them to be kept safely out of sight, but wasn’t expecting to see so many.

Beside him, Yukari was speechless. “W-whoa…”

Junpei looked like he didn’t know whether to be concerned that a dorm had such an arsenal, or to indulge in every guy’s fantasy and immediately run over to the sword racks. “Those… are awesome,” he murmured finally.

Minato, on the other hand, had seen and heard all he needed to. The spark of curiosity was fanned into a blaze of sudden enthusiasm. “I’m in.” The others looked at him, reactions mixed from surprise to disbelief to, in Mitsuru-senpai’s case, approval. “It’s going to take more than the two of you to fight those things, and I’m curious about them and my Persona. If fighting the Shadows gets me some answers, then count me in.”

“Thanks,” Akihiko-senpai told him from where he was leaning against the wall.

“Just like that?” Yukari asked. “You’re not curious about the details? What if there’s more we don’t know?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he told her, still eyeing the racks with the European swords. “I was worried that there wouldn’t be a backup plan and that I’d have to use a Persona for everything. But these?” He gestured toward the swords and gave his senpai a slowly-growing grin. “I can get used to these. When do we get started?”


	2. Advance

“So why use a saber?” Junpei asked the next day as they were walking back from school. “It’s kind of an odd choice when there were so many other weapons to choose from.”

“Not really,” Minato replied, stretching his arms above his head and not missing a stride. “Katanas are good weapons, but we’re also using Evokers. I’d rather not mix up my hands and waste time when I’m in a hurry. Besides, if the blade’s sharp and used properly, you don’t have to swing that hard to get the job done.”

“Still, you don’t seem like the fencing type. Dancing around in a straightjacket with a fishnet on your face… Yeah, I can’t see it.”

Minato concealed a smile, looking toward to road. If only he knew. “Sabers aren’t just used for competitions. They’re pretty versatile as far as swords go. But since you raised the topic, we’ll have to keep count if we end up fighting Shadows again.”

Junpei perked up at that, looking like a dog that had heard the dinner bell. “Really? What would you bet?”

He got a chuckle in response. “Well, we’ll have to see who wins first. Don’t raise the stakes until you know what you’re up against, right?”

“We’ll see, we’ll see,” was Junpei’s response, accompanying a wide grin. A number of students joined them at the next intersection, so their discussion shifted to less incriminating topics, and swords and bets and Shadows and shooting themselves in the head weren’t mentioned the rest of the way back to the dorm. There was a familiar figure waiting for them when they arrived however, standing out even against the foyer’s usual soft lights.

“Hey, Akihiko-senpai,” Junpei called as they entered. “What’s goin’ on?”

The silver-haired teen was sitting on a couch with his school books spread before him on the table. Despite Ikutsuki’s assurances to the new team members that he still wasn’t in fighting condition, he looked as calm and capable as ever. No discomfort, no winces or complaints, so it was hard to even know where he’d been hurt. Of course, Minato hadn’t known him very well before his injuries, so perhaps this was him being wounded and he was normally more chipper and effervescent. Still, he just looked at the two kouhai and tilted his head to the side, beckoning them over. “We’ll be going to Tartarus tonight,” he told them simply when they got closer. “It’s time to see what you three can do. Make sure you’re rested and ready to go at 11.”

Junpei blinked for a few moments, caught off guard, then scratched the back of his head. “Huh? Uh, cool, but should we be expecting anything serious? I mean, more serious than usual? Because you make it sound like a pretty big deal.”

Their senpai closed his eyes and shook his head. “There’s no such thing as an easy fight when it comes to these things, Junpei. Shadows are dangerous, no matter how much practice you get. So I’d expect you to take them seriously.”

“I think he was just surprised, Senpai,” Minato replied, coming to his classmate’s defence. “It’s a little abrupt, that’s all. Especially after the last few days we’ve had. But if that’s the plan, then we’ll be ready.”

“Good. I already told Takeba. And since Mitsuru’s going to be staying here tonight, you’ll be leading the team when we get there.”

That caught them both off guard. “Me?” Minato replied, tilting his head to the side. “Why me? Wouldn’t Yukari-san be a better choice if you won’t be fighting with us? She’s been here longer than me or Junpei.”

“Mitsuru’s orders. She’s interested in how you perform in the field. Fighting, leadership, that sort of thing. Also, your Persona’s probably stabilized from its first summoning, but it’s still an unusual case. She wants to know how you deal with a few live scenarios. And I’ll be there to assist if things go wrong.”

“And evaluate, I’m sure. No pressure dude,” Junpei tossed in with a wink to the transfer student. “They’re just throwing you into the deep end without a rope.”

Minato gave them a smirk. “Then I’ll have to get a perfect 10 in the diving competition. I’ll make sure I’m ready, Senpai.”

Akihiko nodded and went back to his reading. Junpei looked at his cell phone for the time, then between them with a questioning gaze. “So, what now?”

“Well, they say that the first step is in choosing the right gear,” Minato offered. “So I’m going to check on my sword. Care to join me?”

Junpei shrugged. “Sure. Might learn something useful, right?”

The two dropped off their school bags and proceeded to the weapons room. Mitsuru had given them the keys necessary to enter the room after each swore to be careful with the weapons inside. It made sense – having stands of high-grade armour and an arsenal of weapons in a student residence would raise questions from even the most lenient dorm executive. Yukari had looked uneasy when they were perusing the selection the night before, but Minato found the room’s atmosphere to be comforting. It had to closed-in feeling that gave a sense of privacy that the foyer and lobby lacked. From the low lighting and the dark oak cabinets and chests and chests of drawers, to the smell of metal polish, steel, and leather, to the hushed feeling that grew as he moved deeper into the room, cutting him off from the sounds of the outside. It all felt welcoming to him. Like an inner sanctum where the part of him that knew how to use the weapons at his disposal was accepted and let loose to explore.

“So, what do you know about looking after swords?” Junpei asked, standing next to him and looking at the sword racks.

The content look that the room’s environment brought to his face remained even through the interruption. “Oh, a thing or two.” And he strode over to where his sword rested, set aside from the others and leaning against the rack. He picked it up and went over to one of the nearby tables, while Junpei sat across from him and watched curiously.

Minato drew his saber, carefully checking the weight and edge. It wasn’t as long as a cavalry saber, and narrowed to a wicked-looking tip. The basket guard around the hilt would take some getting used to, but it was nothing he couldn’t adapt to. And the balance wasn’t bad, but it had been a while since anyone had used the sword as a weapon if the dull edge was any indication. That wouldn’t do. Recalling his lessons and after-school club activities, he got up and rifled through the various drawers and cupboards until he found a set of sharpening stones, a bottle of blade grease and some rags, and sat down to give the weapon a much-needed sharpening. First a series of swipes with the coarsest stone. Then oil and a cleaning. Then a finer stone, and more oil and another cleaning. Another stone, finer yet, and another cleaning. And on and on until the blade gleamed like sunlight on running water and was so sharp that he risked being cut just by looking at it. As he worked, Junpei followed his lead, albeit with less polished results. The two worked in an easy silence, with one focusing on his task and minding the blade, and the other watching and trying to copy his teammate. Minato was carefully wiping the oil off his sword, looking for any missed metal shavings, when Junpei gave a disgusted sigh next to him. “I’d never pass up the chance to kick a Shadow’s ass,” he muttered, sheathing his sword and testing the sword belt, “but these late nights are going to be murder if we push them too long.”

“Then we’ll be smart about it,” was all Minato said, giving a final swipe of the cloth before setting it to the side and sheathing his sword in a single smooth motion. “And look on the bright side – you were wondering why I chose the saber. Now you’ll get a chance for a live demonstration.”

Junpei looked up at his comrade’s bright eyes, distinct and out of place on features that were normally stoic and detached, and groused “You’re enjoying this too much.”

Minato gave him a sideways glance and a smirk. “Just remember – the tally starts with the first fight, and I’ll be keeping score.”

 

* * *

 

It was an odd feeling, now that he thought about. Well, that was an understatement. ‘Odd’ was the class rep’s dog running through the halls during lunch hour after being covered with several gallons of rainbow-coloured paint. But the shift from real time to the Dark Hour was so obvious that he’d never know how he missed it during his first night in Tatsumi Port Island. And it was becoming more palpable each time it happened. The shift that rippled through the world around him like a thin wall of water, the way the sound of traffic on the roads nearby was cut off and everything else became muffled, and how it always smelled like decay and stagnating water. Even the ambient lighting was strange, brighter in places that were nowhere near the street lights, and darker directly beneath them, even though the lights themselves were off.

But what threw him the most was the change in temperature. It was warm during the normal daytime hours, which was nothing new for the beginning of May. But when the Dark Hour hit, the temperature dropped a good ten degrees. It wasn’t enough to require more than his usual jacket, but it was an immediate change, no matter how warm or brisk it had been at 11:59. Perhaps even more unusual, and he still wasn’t used to it, was how the wind cut off when the shift happened. It only reinforced how wrong the Dark Hour was.

And yet the shift felt familiar. As disturbing as the changes were, jarring and blatant distortions of the normal world, there was a part of him that recognized the sensations. It wasn’t obvious, but it was there in his heart, and it guided his steps through the Dark Hour with ease. He hadn’t noticed it until Junpei had started asking questions, but it bolstered his decision to fight – he wanted some answers, and it seemed like this was where they were hiding.

“Did you catch all that, Arisato-kun?”

He pulled his eyes down in a flash. He’d been so busy looking at the ceiling of the bottom floor of Tartarus that he hadn’t noticed that the others were done talking. Yukari was looking at him curiously, still looking like the girl he’d met on his first night despite the longbow she held in her hands and the quiver of arrows she had belted to her waist. Her Evoker was strapped to her hip, readily at hand, but he noticed that she kept her hands away from it when she could.

His inattention had made him the centre of attention. But he responded with a shrug. “More or less. Tartarus is a construct that’s unique to the Dark Hour, and it was where the Shadow that attacked us the other night came from, so that’s why we’re exploring it, right?”

Akihiko nodded, holding his jacket over his shoulder like he’d stopped by on his usual route to school. “More or less. We explored it before, but had to stop due to a conflict of interest. Now we have you guys, so we’re seeing what’s in here. This floor’s safe, and everything between us and the top is a nest for the Shadows.”

“Is there a chance they’ll try to escape into the city?” Yukari asked. “Or was last time a freak accident?”

Akihiko shook his head. “We’re not sure. Most of the time they stay here, but if that were always the case then The Lost would only be in this area. They aren’t, so it makes sense that the Shadows are out in the city when the Dark Hour hits. Or there’s more to Apathy Syndrome than we know. But this is where most of the Shadows are, so this place gets priority.”

Junpei chuckled and adjusted his baseball cap. “Then this place makes for a good training ring, doesn’t it? We won’t have to go looking for them, and we’ll be ready if one of those big ones comes out.”

Their senpai nodded. “That’s the idea. Get used to fighting and using your Personas, because that’s your best bet for staying alive in this place. There’s another thing – pay attention to the feel of your Evokers, and also start thinking about ways to improve them. Is it too heavy or too light, wide enough, thin enough, whatever. It’s going to be yours after tonight, and you’re going to want it to be a perfect fit, so keep that in mind as we go.”

The others were quiet, so Minato spoke up. “So these are going to become our own Evokers? We won’t be switching them or grabbing whichever ones are available?”

Akihiko nodded, looking at each of them intently. “Evokers might be something we all use, but they’re not interchangeable. The balance, the grip, the weight and feel, it’s not something you want to be throwing you off-centre when you’re in a bind. We’ll lock them up when we’re not using them, but we don’t trade them unless it’s necessary.”

“Do they have to look like guns though?” Junpei asked, scratching the back of his neck. “Why couldn’t it be something else?”

Akihiko gave him a hard stare, then pulled his Evoker free from the holster, tilted it back, and held it to his temple, just above the right eye, without flinching. “Tartarus won’t go easy on you. If you can’t pull the trigger when it doesn’t matter, then you probably won’t do much good when it does. And if that’s the case, you should forget everything you’ve seen here and go back home.”

“It’s not like that,” Junpei protested immediately. “It’s just… I don’t need a reminder of how crazy all this shit is. I mean, does it get any easier?”

Akihiko shrugged and gestured with his weapon. “It did for me. When you’re fighting for your life and on the edge, how you die doesn’t matter as much. A Shadow or a bullet to the brain, it’ll get the job done. Just that if your Evoker were loaded, it would probably be faster.”

“That’s pretty morbid,” Yukari murmured, checking her bow and quiver and looking up the stairs.

Minato spun his own Evoker around his forefinger, testing the weight and balance like his senpai had said. The action came easily, smoothly, and felt right. “It’s a good mindset to have though,” he noted. “It’s not like we’ll get a second chance if we choke.” He looked up as Akihiko-senpai slid his weapon back into his belt, and frowned when something caught his eye. “Senpai, is that writing?”

“Hm?” He pulled the gun back out and looked at the slide, then gave a small smile. “Ah, that. It’s something Ikutsuki put on. I have no idea where he got the idea or where he sends them for the engraving, but it never takes very long.” He twisted the weapon and showed them. As Minato had seen, there were letters, but not English or Japanese, carved into each side of the otherwise clean and polished slide. “He says it’s a way of personalizing them. I have no idea where he gets the quotes or ideas for them, but they’re fitting. Or at least they are for me and Mitsuru.”

Minato took a closer look, and tried making sense of the script, but all he knew was that the letters looked Greek. And the letters on one side were different from those on the other. “What does it mean?”

“The whole quote covers both sides,” he explained as Yukari and Junpei leaned in for a closer look. “But it translates into something Archimedes apparently said: Give me somewhere to stand, and I will move the Earth.”

The three were silent for a moment. He’d sounded proud but modest when speaking the words, and it showed in his expression. Minato couldn’t help but be impressed, and Junpei chuckled with a grin, his concerns forgotten as he looked at the silver-haired teen with open admiration. “That’s pretty deep. And awesome. And I can totally see that suiting you, Senpai. Born to rock in the ring and never taking second place, no matter where you are, y’know?”

“There’s more to it than that, Junpei,” Akihiko-senpai replied, holstering the weapon for the last time. “But we’re not here for a history lesson. We’ll see what Ikutsuki gives you, and maybe you’ll understand more.”

Minato frowned thoughtfully. He remembered the night he’d arrived at the dorm, and the weapon that’d been pointed at him, but couldn’t recall seeing any markings on that Evoker. But then, he’d had other things on his mind, like contemplating a ventilated skull, so maybe he’d forgotten. “Do you have those markings on yours, Yukari-san?” he inquired.

She shook her head. “I haven’t had much luck summoning my Persona until now, so it’s never come up. I’m not sure what I’d want on it, anyway.”

“You’ll get them in time,” Akihiko-senpai assured them crisply, rolling his shoulders. “Now, time to see what you can do. Let’s take it one floor at a time. You guys are setting the pace, and you’re going to be doing the fighting, so work out how you’re going to operate.”

“Will you be fighting with us, Senpai?” Yukari asked.

Akihiko-senpai gave a small, tight smirk. It might have looked stoic to the others, but to Minato it looked like a mix between a rueful laugh and a pained grimace. “There’s nothing I’d like more, but Mitsuru and the doctors want me to take it easy for now. I feel fine, but it’s not worth catching hell over. I’ll back you up with my Persona if you get in a bind. The front lines are yours.”

Junpei looked crestfallen, frowning before turning and adjusting his hat – evidently he’d been looking forward to fighting beside his senpai. Much as Minato would have liked the same, he also saw the logic behind the decision. “That makes sense,” Minato told him, catching the group’s attention. “There’s no point in risking a permanent injury if you don’t need to.”

Akihiko gave him a level stare and a low grunt. “Whose side are you on?” he muttered.

“It’s not like there’ll be a shortage of Shadows to kill, right?”

Their senpai just shook his head and sighed. “Come on. Let’s go. Remember: the Shadows will be trying to kill you, so don’t let your guard down. We’ll go as far as we can, then call it a night.” And he led them up the stairs and through the distorted halls, teaching them as they went. Checking the corners, proper formations and space, signals between Junpei and Minato, whose weapons risked injury to the other, and so on. The first few fights were over before they really began. Minato got used to handling a saber again, Junpei’s signals were easy to read, and Yukari’s support worked well with their formation. He was about to comment on how well they were progressing when Akihiko gave the signal to stop. “Those were stragglers,” he told them calmly, ignoring the silence he got in response. “It’s pretty common. Since the Shadows are attuned to this place, we can expect them to try harder and in larger groups next.”

“Try harder?” Junpei repeated, rolling his shoulder and flexing his hands on his sword. “You make it sound like they’re smart enough to trick us or use ambushes.”

“It doesn’t happen all the time. But they’re not just stupid animals operating on instinct. They’re smart, crafty sometimes, and dangerous no matter what. So don’t let your guard down.”

“It looks like there’s a staircase over there,” Minato informed them, nodding down the next corridor. “At least we have a place to go if they attack us.”

“Think they’ll use the stairs?” Junpei asked, adjusting his grip on his sword.

“The one the other night climbed up the wall,” Yukari noted, looking around and setting an arrow to her bowstring. “It was like it was herding us.”

Akihiko-senpai let the shared commentary settle for a moment before walking toward the stairs. “We’ll see what they try here. I’ve never seen them scale Tartarus, so maybe the rules are different here.”

Minato followed without question, the other two joining him shortly after. The next floor was cramped and dark, even more so than before. Minato took the lead, checking the corners and only catching glimpses of something scurrying on the edge of his vision, so faint that he wasn’t sure he was seeing anything. And the way the Dark Hour muffled sounds made his hearing useless. He looked around again, catching the silent, scurrying movements. But off in the distance. Was it running from them? Then why was it going sideways and not away? And it wasn’t getting any closer. But then, why move like that at all? What was it doing?

Unless–

“Look out!”

–the movement was a distraction. Shadows rushed them from the corners they hadn’t checked, and they were too close to dodge or run from.

Everything cleared. His vision crystallized. The gloom in the corners brightened, his centre of gravity anchored, and his hesitation fled. His body heated up. Momentum from his racing heart flooded his veins, seeped into his muscles, and drove him forward. Yes. He knew this feeling, and he welcomed it with a smile. He drew his sword in a flash and flowed forward, meeting the strikes with his own. Slashes were answered with a parry and riposte. He dodged around thrusts and severed the limb once it was in reach. His muscles pulled and tensed, remembering the hours of lessons. Each strike hit home, and each cut covered the walls with Shadow ‘blood’. Dodge, slice. An arm melted into the ground. Parry, slash. A body fell without its head. Always in motion, always in balance, and he moved like water. His momentum couldn’t be stopped no matter how hard they tried.

Two more cuts. His blade, sharp as it was, cut them down without slowing or catching. Another Shadow died, and he spun to meet the two that took its place. He barely saw the attacks, but his body reacted in a second. Two parries, one slash, and only one enemy left. He dodged and spun with an upward slice, bringing down the bird before his left hand connected with his Evoker. Out it came. Around it went.

Once. Twice. Thrice.

He barely felt it at his temple when he pulled the trigger, and the last Shadows near him died in a blast of fire. The adrenaline was still pumping as he turned, but the others had finished their targets. What a shame. He’d just started breathing hard. Akihiko-senpai watched them from the back, surrounded by a smoking pile of Shadow goo with a calm look on his face. The others looked up at the transfer student, clearly surprised by how fast he’d moved.

“Wh…where’d you learn t… to fight like that?” Junpei huffed next to him, shaking off a hit he’d taken.

“I used to be part of the kendo club back in jr. high,” Minato replied, holstering his Evoker and running his thumb and forefinger down the blade to clean off the muck from their foes. “Learned a lot from them. It didn’t last though – they ended up asking me not to participate after a while.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Yukari protested, collecting her arrows and wiping the sweat from her brow. “Why would they ask a skilled student to leave? I’m sure there were competitions you could have helped them win if you were that good. And how does kendo make you a good fencer?”

Minato smirked as he turned to her, shrugging exaggeratedly. “There were some sore losers on the team who felt that my participation took away from the training of the others. And there was the other detail that, whether it was the poor sports or the team captain, they all kept losing. So I ponied up for some lessons and took up fencing last year to expand my horizons. I’m not as good as when I was practicing kendo, but some of the principles are the same. And this style suits me more.”

“Y…you’re serious?” Junpei asked incredulously. Even Akihiko-senpai looked over at the transfer student curiously. “You were the best fighter on the kendo team?” Minato’s smirk stayed as it was, and Junpei caught himself, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “Wait a sec. Are you serious?”

Minato didn’t sound the least bit convincing when he replied “Who knows?” Just to top it off, he winked at his team mates. “If you’re ever up for sparring, maybe you’ll find out.”

“Hm. Maybe I will,” Junpei replied warily, then grinned at the others. “It would make for a pretty awesome fight though. You against me, last man standing. Who can turn down a guy with a Japanese sword, right Yuka-tan?”

Yukari rolled her eyes and pretended not to notice him. Minato chuckled and shook his head. Subtle as a train wreck, that one. His heart was in the right place, there was no denying that, but his approach needed work. “By the way Junpei, that puts me up to eight for this floor.”

“Hm?”

Minato tapped his saber and the gunk that still clung to the blade, cocking an eyebrow meaningfully. “I said I’d be keeping tally. I’m at eight. What about you?”

Junpei was silent, and Yukari cocked her head and looked from one to the other, confused. “You’re keeping count of the Shadows we’ve fought? Why?”

“No reason,” Junpei told her before Minato could respond or Akihiko-senpai could ask further. “But that’s enough of a rest, right? If the Shadows know when each other dies, then we should get going.” He shouldered his sword, both weapon and wielder coated in the tacky slime left behind by the Shadows, and walked toward the end of the corridor.

Neither Yukari nor Akihiko-senpai saw it, but he gave a hard stare to Minato as he passed. And got a quirk of the lips, almost a smile, in response. When the others looked at him for answers, he just shrugged and turned to follow his companion.

Despite Akihiko-senpai’s warnings and the chance for another ambush, the rest of the floor was quiet. The staircase presented itself, and they ascended to the next floor without incident. They passed through the door and found another empty room, but Akihiko-senpai stopped them with a “Hold up” when they were about to explore further. The three kouhai turned around, seeing him nod to where they’d just come from. “Here. Look at this.” He pointed to an odd green sphere lodged in the frame, and closed his hand around it until it glowed. There was an odd vibration in the door, and when he reopened it, the view that greeted them as the platform at the bottom of Tartarus instead of more dark hallways.

“That’s creepy,” Junpei noted, staying back from the door.

“But convenient,” Minato noted calmly, pushing his hand through the open door, testing for a barrier or a trap. Nothing. “It beats having to walk all the way back down.”

“Let’s call it a night,” Akihiko told them. “This place takes more out of you than normal time does, and it takes getting used to. No point in pushing it too hard on the first try.”

“Works for me,” Yukari put in, stepping through the door and down the steps. She looked back when she reached the bottom, evidently to convince herself that the door hadn’t been a trick. The three males followed, Akihiko-senpai leading.

When they reached the ground floor, their senpai looked at each of them in turn. “Not bad for a first try. How’re you holding up?”

“Tired,” Yukari replied simply. She was swaying a little, holding her bow close.

“I coulda gone another floor or two,” Junpei told him, shouldering his sword. “But I get it if this was just a test run.” Then he looked to the last member of the group. “So how about you, Leader? You got any more to give?”

“I’m fine. On the topic of our Evokers – I’ll take a left-handed grip on mine,” Minato informed their senpai smoothly. Yukari and Junpei looked at him, puzzled, and he continued. “Switching my sword out each time is too much of a hassle. It’s not like the Shadows are going to wait for me if I screw up.”

Akihiko-senpai nodded. “Makes sense. Using your Evoker left-handed means you’re never off guard. Anything else?”

“The balance is a bit off,” Minato continued. “The weight needs to be centred more.”

“That was one of my spares,” Akihiko-senpai noted with a smirk, “so that only makes sense. I’ll make sure the adjustments are made. By the way, Mitsuru fights the same way you do, so if you ever need any pointers, she’d be someone to talk to.”

Junpei immediately perked up. “Ooooh, now that would be an awesome fight to see, don’tcha think, Yuka-tan? Mitsuru-senpai against the new guy, a no-holds-barred match. I don’t think either of them would stop for a whistle either.”

Yukari just shook her head with a long-suffering sigh. “If she uses a saber too, then they’d be fencing properly. That means padded gear, masks, a fighting ring, and swinging at each other with props like paperclips. They’d have to call hits and points too, so it wouldn’t be like fighting here if that’s what you’re thinking. Besides, she doesn’t seem like she’d get bent out of shape over a fight, so it probably wouldn’t be that interesting.”

Junpei’s shoulders sank as he grumbled under his breath. Akihiko-senpai’s eyes were closed and something Yukari said must have amused him, because he hid a low laugh behind one of his hands. “It’s hard to say how she’d react,” he told them lightly. “But let’s go – the Dark Hour’s about to end, and it’ll be easier if we’re outside before this place changes back.”

They made their way out to the street, and were just outside the front gate when the world distorted. A low hum, darkened lights flickering, and then it was over. The street lamps above them cut through the darkness and the normality of everything around them took a few minutes to get used to. Junpei and Yukari talked to Akihiko-senpai about their Evokers, and Minato trailed behind them, making sure his sword wouldn’t be visible to any passersby. It was strange; for just a moment when they headed back down the tower, he felt something. A breeze on his mind, or a phantom brush across his face. It was as familiar to him as being in the Dark Hour, the same sensation he felt when he saw the Shadow on the roof. But where had it come from? Was it another large Shadow, or was it something else?

“You alright, Arisato?” Akihiko-senpai asked him as them stopped at an intersection. He glanced up and realized how close they were to the dorm.

“I’m fine,” he replied with a small smile. “Just thinking about the Shadow from before.”

“I guess it’s all sinking in, huh?”

“Something like that. I don’t suppose you know anything else about Tartarus, do you?”

“Nothing I haven’t told you already. Why?”

Minato shrugged, his face blank. “I’m just wondering what’s at the top. It’s tall, but it doesn’t go on forever, right?”

Akihiko-senpai shrugged. “No one knows. There’re plenty of theories, but nothing that’s more true or less crazy from basic gossip. But if we keep exploring, then the odds are good that we’ll find out eventually.”

Junpei chuckled next to them. “Though, seriously, that’s a lot of stairs to climb.”

“You’re always bragging about being the star of PE, aren’t you?” Yukari pointed out without a sideways glance. “So it shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

Junpei protested. Akihiko-senpai hid a laugh behind his hand. And Minato glanced back toward the tower that was no longer there. What was at the top? Or who?

 

* * *

 

They sat and discussed Tartarus and the Shadows when they returned. Minato and the others were tired and bruised from their fights, but the answers were welcome. Still, Minato found his mind wandering, and it had nothing to do with fatigue.

He thought about the Dark Hour and the Shadows as they talked, and looked at his Evoker, still on his belt. He could feel them inside now, tickling him under his skin. Stirring. Whispering. Waiting. His Personas. Waiting for a fight and a pull of the trigger to come out and raise hell. But they offered no guidance. No answers about everything that’d happened since he’d come to Tatsumi Port Island, to why he had several where the others only had one. To why it felt like he’d seen that Shadow that attacked the dorm before, and how he knew what it was going to do before it even moved. But he couldn’t say anything. Telling people who were dedicated to killing Shadows that he had a connection with them wasn’t a healthy career move. So he kept his intuitions to himself, hard as it was. He didn’t have anyone to talk to about this strange familiarity.

“That’s not true.”

He spun toward the door. His neck popped from how fast he moved. The foyer, the lobby desk, the chair behind it. Nothing. But he knew what he’d heard. And who had that voice. Of course, that was just one more question he didn’t have an answer for – after all this time, where had Junior gone? And why could he hear him when no one else even knew he existed?

“You’re really out of it tonight, dude,” Junpei told him from across the table, pulling him back to the present. “You alright? Maybe we oughtta turn in if you’re spacing out.”

Minato shook his head, beginning to realize how tired he was. Get back in the game. “Nah. I’m fine. I just need a minute to let it sink in.

“Well, the meeting’s over anyway,” Akihiko-senpai told them from where he was leaning against the arm of the couch. “All of you did pretty good tonight, so get some rest. And leave your Evokers here – I’ll send them to be tuned up.”

The three nodded and did as he asked. Conversation was nonexistent as they trudged up the stairs, their momentum gone and the sheer inertia of the Dark Hour, fighting Shadows, and a full day of school and studying and activities bearing down on them. Even with the Dark Hour feeling familiar and his sword training still as sharp as ever, his arms felt like lead weights in a swimming pool. He’d barely managed his farewells to his comrades before stumbling into his room and collapsing on his bed. When he woke up, it was eleven hours later.

His morning routines hadn’t changed, despite working more closely with Yukari and Junpei at school to ‘promote team cohesion’, as Ikutsuki had put it after an attempt at a joke that involved pigeons and acorn squash. And the attention he’d gotten from his classmates hadn’t decreased very much either, though at least it hadn’t gotten any worse. But his trigger finger was itching. Until their weapons came back, they weren’t going to Tartarus, and holding in his Personas without an outlet was like an itch he couldn’t scratch. He hoped that his Evoker would be returned to him soon, but he hadn’t expected it come back within two days. Nor was he expecting Mitsuru-senpai herself to deliver it to him.

He’d been sharpening his sword and tending to his gear, something that was fast becoming a habit, when she opened the door and stepped through in her usual blouse and skirt and boots, carrying a dark wooden case at her side. He rose from his seat and bowed smoothly to her, and noted when she stopped across the table from him that she was wearing perfume. Or perhaps she’d just showered, since her hair looked as clean and vibrant as ever. But his nose tickled as she stood there, catching a scent like Valentines cinnamon hearts and peppermint and something else he couldn’t place. Yet it didn’t cloud his head or make his eyes water, like some of the girls at school. It was something spicy and a bit sweet, but understated. Subtle enough that he hadn’t noticed it until now. He couldn’t help but approve of her choice – it suited her.

“Here,” she told him, placing the case on the table to show him its contents without wasting time on formalities. “This one’s yours. Takeba and Iori already have theirs.”

The gun in the case, his Evoker, was now a polished grey instead of the same light blue that Yukari’s was. The grip was grooved to accommodate a left hand instead of the usual right, as he’d requested, and it had a smoother, more streamlined frame than the one he’d sent away. There weren’t any markings on the polished slide. No Greek letters or choice phrases. Ikutsuki must have still been working on one. Minato pulled it out of the case without a word and tested the weight and the balance. Both were perfect now. He looked down the iron sights – an obvious holdover from when it fired actual bullets – and felt his lips pull up into a small smile. Yes. This would do perfectly.

Mitsuru-senpai gave him a knowing smile when he looked up from the weapon. There was no condescension in her eyes, or resignation like he was getting used to seeing from Yukari when Junpei was talking. Instead it looked like she understood that his Evoker was more than just a tool, and that his focus on it was different from a male fascination with destructive metal objects. And he knew why. His Evoker was the gateway to his Persona, and that was something she could understand perfectly. Probably better than he could, considering how long she’d been doing this. “Make sure you get used to it,” she told him simply, closing the case and stepping back with it. “And don’t push yourself into exhaustion. We may need you for something that doesn’t involve Tartarus, and you’ll have to be in peak condition.” She nodded once in parting, and turned toward the door.

“Thanks, Mitsuru-senpai,” he murmured to her back as she left. She didn’t respond or turn back, but he had a feeling that she heard him.

When she and her scent left the room, he looked at his Evoker again, then turned to his sword belt to check his holster. She’d taken the time to make the delivery, so the least he could do was make sure it was worth it. He’d be ready when she needed him.

 

* * *

 

They settled into the routine of going to Tartarus ever second or third night. Minato would have gone more, but Junpei had argued that going on no sleep for that long was crazy. Yukari had objected on grounds of still being students and needing to do well in their classes. In the end, Minato agreed with her, and took to practicing on his own when he wasn’t studying.

It was a few weeks after their first night in Tartarus when Mitsuru-senpai had called them to the foyer as they were turning in. She was still wearing her uniform and looked the same as when she greeted them in the morning. Minato couldn’t help but notice how much she contrasted with Junpei, who was yawning blearily, and Yukari, who had traces of toothpaste on the edge of her mouth. Their senpai wasn’t yawning or rumpled, nor did she have circles under her eyes. Maybe she was a night owl.

“We’ve detected a Shadow outside Tartarus,” she told them as an introduction. “It’s at least as big as the one that attacked us here.”

The others blinked, clearly not expecting the news. Minato felt his fatigue drain away and stretched in place. Well, so much for reading before calling it a night. “Do we have any details on it? Where is it?”

She nodded, gesturing to a map of the city on the table in front of her. “It’s on a passenger train, here,” she explained, pointing. “The lines are done running for the day, so it won’t be moving too fast. I want you three to get ready and deal with it once the Dark Hour hits. I’ll meet you at the train station and provide support.”

“Will Akihiko-senpai be joining us?” Minato inquired, already forming a battle plan in his head.

“Not this time. He might get a bit enthusiastic and try to help you on the train. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but he’s supposed to be healing. And you’ve been training long enough.”

A trial by fire. “We’ll get it done, Mitsuru-senpai,” Minato told her. She nodded. The others had their questions, and she answered them easily. She left them in the foyer on account of “having other preparations to make,” and the three made their way to the weapons room to arm up. They kept mostly to themselves, still shaking off their earlier plans and adjusting to the shift. And each had to prepare for the upcoming fight in their own way. They strapped on their weapons and armour and headed to the street without protest. This was what they’d been training for.

An hour later, just as the Dark Hour began, they were waiting outside the train station Mitsuru-senpai had pointed out. Junpei was resting on the stairs, looking sharp and alert after two energy drinks, while Yukari tapped the inside of her arm. “Where is she?” she grumbled.

Then they heard it.

There was a low, approaching growl. Not of a Shadow or a living beast, but rather of a mechanical steed, moving fast. Minato turned to see an approaching headlight that turned as it reached them, revealing a white and red Japanese motorcycle, complete with saddlebags and a metal case strapped to the back. The bike wasn’t something that had been found and repaired or patched up until it ran – it was a quality machine that came at top dollar, a king of lions that purred as it idled, waiting for the command to run. Instead the rumbling died off as the ignition was cut, and his attention was caught by the person driving it. The rider snapped down the kickstand and dismounted, and for a moment Minato wasn’t sure which of the two had finer curves. An expensive pair of boots ended while long, toned legs ran up to a shapely set of hips, all covered in dark riding leather. A zipped-up biking jacket, close fitting, and a dark helmet that looked both worn and cared for. Minato took a few seconds to look the rider over. He knew enough about bikes and the gear to go with them that while the rider’s ensemble was of unmistakably good quality and probably cost more than a middle manager’s mortgage, it showed signs of use. From the odd patch of thin material to the wear marks on the wrists and elbows and knees, the suit was both stylish and practical. Same as the helmet that was being unstrapped and pulled off as he completed his inspection.

The long red hair that announced the rider’s identity as the helmet was removed didn’t surprise him – he knew no one else in the dorm could have afforded an oil change for a bike like that, let alone the machine itself and the gear that came with it. But seeing Kirijo Mitsuru decked out in close-fitting leather hit a chord in him that held his feet in place and his mouth shut. He wasn’t surprised – rather, he was in awe at the figure she cut.

“Holy shit,” Junpei murmured next to him, and all he could do was nod.

Of course, such moments of worship and genuflection were not to last long. Yukari adjusted her quiver and stepped forward to address their senpai. “Do we know more about the Shadow now?”

And the spell was broken. Mitsuru-senpai nodded, uncaring of the attention she was getting and acting like she always did while she pulled the metal case off her bike. “It’s on the train currently at the station here. As far as I can tell, it’s at the front, and it’s not moving.”

“So… if the Dark Hour kills electronics, how does your bike work?” Junpei asked, still not completely over her, or her bike. Minato nodded – if he could get batteries like that, he’d never need to worry about his music cutting out again. And he wouldn’t have to keep resetting the clock on his phone.

“It’s special,” she told them as she hung her helmet on the handlebars and shook her hair out. Minato couldn’t help but follow its motion. She’d been riding a motorcycle with her helmet on, so it should have windblown or pressed close to her scalp. But it was neither. Instead she looked as fresh and in control as the first night he saw her.

He couldn’t help where his mind went at her words. Special, eh? Not just the bike. Maybe it was inappropriate to think of his senpai like that, especially the daughter of the Kirijo chairman, a girl he’d known for less than a month, but he didn’t care. The sight of her, leaning against her bike, confident and not a hair out of place, was burning into his mind. The white of her skin and red of her hair stood out like a pure, brilliant flame against the warped green cityscape and the glaring full moon above. An unshakable anchor of self-assurance that hit him even deeper than when he’d first seen her. More than Yukari’s lively personality, or the girls he’d seen in the school drama club. None of them got to him like she did. When he thought about it, no one had ever gotten to him like that, girls or otherwise.

That should have scared the hell out of him. But all he could think was that he wanted to know more about her.

“I’ll provide backup from here,” she continued as she adjusted the case holding her scanning apparatus, evidently unaware of Minato’s eyes following her. “I should be in range no matter what the Shadow does. It’s probably too much to hope for that it will stay where it is, so be ready if the train starts moving.”

“Can it do that without the engines?” Minato asked.

She nodded and knelt with her scanning equipment. He almost missed what she said next – he was too distracted with how the leather cupped her curves as she moved. “It wouldn’t surprise me. There are a lot of rules that the Dark Hour bends, so be ready for anything.” When she looked back at them, he nodded. And felt his cheeks heat up. Embarrassed? Well, that was another first.

But she was dead serious when she rose to her full height to address them. “Akihiko feels that all of you are ready, and from what I’ve seen, I agree with his assessment. But this is still dangerous. Remember your training and work together.”

“We’ll be alright, Mitsuru-senpai,” Junpei assured her with a grin. “We’re good to give it 110%.”

“And we’ve got a leader who won’t do anything stupid or reckless,” Yukari put in, testing her bowstring.

“Then it’s in your hands,” she told them, nodding with a small smile. “Good luck.”

Minato nodded and raised a hand in a half salute before turning and heading up the steps, checking his breathing and resting his hand on his sword. He felt the others close ranks behind him, and the air went cold. The familiarity was there, and it was useful in a way. It gave him something to focus on besides Mitsuru-senpai and how she looked, wrapped in leather. Like the feeling of wrongness all around him and the enemy they had to fight.

Sometimes, it really was the simple things in life.

He let out a fortifying breath as they reached the train, and draw his saber. “Be ready for anything,” he told them calmly. “And watch your targets – fighting on a train means less space to move around.”

“Got it,” Yukari replied, all business now. “And you two watch your swings.”

“No worries,” Junpei tossed back as he drew his sword. On an unspoken signal, they rushed onto the train through the open door, looking for Shadows. But they ended up staggering for balance when the train jerked beneath them. The doors shut, the lights flickered, and the train started moving.

“Great,” Yukari muttered, staring out the window as they accelerated. “Should’ve expected that.”

Minato shrugged, focused on what lay ahead. “Who didn’t see that coming? Come on – let’s find this thing before it starts playing with the speed or the tracks. There’s only one place it could’ve gotten this thing moving, so this way we won’t have to go looking for it.”

Junpei looked over his shoulder at their leader, a ready gleam in his eyes. “Same stakes as before?”

“You’re on,” Minato agreed with a small smile.

Yukari sighed next to them. “Men.”

“It’ll be more interesting if you join in, Yukari-san,” Minato offered.

“No, you guys have your fun. Let’s just get this over with.” He and Junpei nodded, and they moved forward, attacking the first group of Shadows that materialized before them.

Much as Junpei might have complained about the time their training at Tartarus ate up and the late nights and bruises they’d endured, it paid off in spades now. Yukari’s shots never missed, and Minato and Junpei worked off each other’s strikes to counter the Shadows in the cars. They worked as a well-oiled machine. However, there was something they’d overlooked. Cramped as Tartarus was, it was spacious compared to the confined spaces of a passenger train. And the Shadows bled every time they were cut or shot or burned or blown apart by lightning and wind gusts. The team’s luck simply wasn’t good enough to remain untouched by the muck, and soon they were ankle-deep in slime, their weapons and clothes spattered black.

“I think the drycleaners are going to love us this week,” Junpei commented after another Shadow went down in a blast of fire, bubbling and hissing as it melted.

Minato was about to comment that he wasn’t sure if Shadow muck was dangerous to people, considering what they did to The Lost. His sword still cut perfectly despite the extra weight, but he couldn’t see his blade under the chunky coat of black and green. And it was getting a bit heavier on the swing every time he finished off his targets.

“I just hope we have shampoo for this!” Yukari snapped back. A few Shadows had tried to scurry past the two guys and bled on her when Minato cut them down from behind just as they reached her. She was unharmed, but her cardigan and hair now carried chunks of blood and dead Shadow, and her temper had shortened immediately after.

Minato decided to keep his questions to himself. Not much they could do about it, and what they didn’t know probably wouldn’t kill them. At least not right away. Hopefully.

Back and forth they went, and they made their way up the train steadily. Their progress went so well, in fact, that Mitsuru-senpai commented on it across their mental link. “Excellent. Two more cars and you should see it.”

Their target thought they were doing well too – it rattled the entire train and kicked up the speed. The dim lights outside became a sickening blur and the Shadows rushed them aggressively. Their banter died off as they fought off the creatures, one after another, and every step was bought with determination and violence. Blades flashed and Personas blazed, and the heavy fights were taking their toll.

Enough so that Minato missed a leaping Shadow that rushed past him. Yukari blew it away, but the attack had been a cover for another Shadow, one that was too close for Minato to dodge. And Junpei was already busy.

He spun, trying to move out of range, but was too late – the Shadow whipped forward, around his saber, and crashed into his chest, sending him into the wall. His vision doubled and his arms were pinned. His breath blasted out of his lungs and his chest immediately twisted in pain. The Shadow glared without eyes, too close to dislodge. Its claws came up, glistening red–

And were cut off by Junpei, swinging from behind. It died without a sound, but Minato didn’t move, trying to breathe through the pain. Trying to see past the spots bubbling across his vision. But he heard it. A low chattering, like someone talking just on the edge of hearing, but he couldn’t make out the words. They weren’t in a language he understood. Maybe they weren’t words at all. But they were coming from the front of the train. He shook his head, but the words persisted. Low. Angry. Threatening. No, no time to lay down. The thing in the first car had to die first.

Junpei finished off the last Shadow, so Yukari held her hand out, standing above him. “That looked bad. Are you alright? You look like you’re bleeding.”

Minato winced as he rose, feeling his ribs creak. Breathing was hard, and standing up straight was a sharp agony like digging into his own chest with a whole drawer of forks and steak knives, but he found his footing and shook her off. Even though his shirt was staining red, the punctures were small. “I’ll manage.”

She kept an arm in front of him, stopping him when he tried to push forward. “You won’t be able to do much with your chest like that. Let me heal you.”

“Save yourself the headache,” he replied with a grimace. Damn thing had gotten him good. “We’re almost there. Patch me up if I’m in trouble, but not now. We need to stop this train.”

She tried arguing with him more, but he pushed past her and got to the door at the end of the car. Junpei rolled his shoulder and glanced at him from under his ball cap. “So that makes us pretty close to even, right?”

He resisted the urge to laugh, and considering the pain in his chest, it wasn’t hard. “So, what now? Winner takes all for the next one?”

A fierce grin. “Works for me. We’ll talk about the prize later.”

Yukari shook her head, an arrow ready at her bow. “You two are nuts.”

They pushed forward and the door opened. He saw it. Hunched in the control room, glaring at them with glazed eyes. Pale, waxy skin concealing what looked like both fat and muscle. It radiated power, so strong it was like choking on chlorine fumes. Yukari and Junpei recoiled, preparing for the fight they knew was coming. But not him. He’d felt this before, and it hadn’t gotten to him back then either. The malevolence rolled around him, didn’t touch him, and he readied his sword.

His mind cleared. There was no concern. No pain. The questions fell away – this thing wouldn’t give him what he was looking for. But it still had to die. He knew it. It knew it. And he knew how to make it happen. They just needed a signal.

Junpei summoned his Persona, and the Shadow lashed out to block it. The explosion fried the air and filled the cabin with the smell of burnt tar.

That would do.

His left hand flashed out, Evoker spinning in his fingers. Two spins on his forefinger. Two more on the middle. And back to the fore as he snapped his wrist back. Smooth as greased lightning, the grip slid into place against his palm. Fingers closed, arm cocked, and barrel against his head.

It’s on.

And he pulled the trigger.

The fight was fierce, far worse than what they’d gone through in Tartarus. The cramped quarters meant that dodging or retreat were impossible, and their Personas clashed with the Shadow’s attacks each time, sizzling in the space between them.

Back and forth they fought, and it was more like a brawl between boxers stuck in phone booths than a spaced out, well-coordinated attack. None of them could retreat, so the only way forward was through their enemy, and they fought to the sound of lightning bolts and gunshots.

When the Shadow was off-balance, as much as it could be, Junpei darted forward and aimed a cut for one of its arms, but over swung and was left open. The Shadow reared up and stared down, claws raised. It had been a feint.

Junpei was in its sights, about to be slashed. And there was no room to get back.

Minato made a decision in a second. It was a risk, but they were running out of track. This fight had to end now.

He spun and threw his sword, hoping for a windfall of timing. Yukari released her arrow when she saw him move, and the Shadow recoiled when the bladed tip struck it in the face. Its shriek of rage was cut off when Minato’s saber slammed into its throat. And Junpei, seeing an opening, put all his weight behind an upward slash that cut its head from its shoulders.

They panted and stared at the Shadow, still burning with adrenaline, when its body wavered and hissed, spewing black blood and growling like a boiling pot. Louder. Sharper. And then it exploded, raw energy and heavy muck knocking them all backward. Minato turned to protect his face, feeling the passing energy tear at his clothes and armour. And before the team could recover, the train lurched forward. Faster than before. Their enemy had a final ‘screw you’ up its sleeve.

They all froze. The backlash from the Shadow’s death had knocked Junpei square into the wall, stunning him. Yukari had been rocked from her feet when the train shuddered, and was trying to catch her balance against the momentum. She looked up, past him, and gave a strangled gasp. He didn’t bother guessing at what she saw – she’d turned white as bone and was shakily trying to point at it. No one ever did that around birthday cake and puppies.

He glanced over his shoulder, confirming what her expression told him – they were headed for the last stop at top speed. The world passed by in a sickening black and green haze and the lights of the Dark Hour made it hard to see how much track there was left.

The answer was obvious. Not enough. Not enough rail, not enough time. Too fast to jump ship. He rushed to the control panel and tried to make out the buttons from under the sticky muck from their foe. While he wiped at the console, he glanced up and saw the outlines of the fast-approaching rail yard.

End of the line. He looked down, trying to make sense of the conductor’s console.

“I-is that what I think it is!?” Junpei shouted, staring through the window.

Brakes. Brakes. Where were the brakes? Buttons, levers, dials, switches and lights, but no brakes. Oh, but there was a red button off to the side.

Yukari finally found her voice. “We have to stop this thing! Now!”

Red button or not? It was always the red button in the movies. But that was also with secret bases in volcanoes and glaciers, not on trains.

“Oh shit, it’s too late!”

He glanced across the console. Where… wher– There.

“Arisato, do something!”

He covered the dial to the left with his palm and twisted hard, feeling the momentum start to bleed off. No electronics in the Dark Hour, so no engine to kill, but whatever was driving them forward was gone now. He slammed his other hand into the red button. A violent shudder as the rear emergency brakes set in with a metallic squeal that set his ears ringing.

Not enough. They were too close.

“Dammit!”

“We’re almost–“

Minato crouched against the console, grabbed the one lever that stood out from the rest, and yanked back as hard as he could. Nothing. His breath caught, and he tried again, straining so hard that his ribs screamed and spots blinked before his eyes. And the lever gave a little. Then a bit more.

Almost. Almost…

And he was sent toward the floor when it finally gave, sliding down and locking in place… then was immediately flattened against the console as the secondary brakes kicked in. The screeching of the brakes rose to a deafening scream of metal on metal. Everything and everyone flew forward. Junpei hit the ground hard next to him, trying to hold steady and protect his head. Yukari tipped over and hit the deck, sliding into Minato hard. He grunted, his chest flashing with pain, but he wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her steady.

Metal screaming. The train shuddering. And no one could look over the console with their insides trying to escape their bodies. Yukari clutched at his jacket, and he tried to worked out the distance he’d seen through the window against how much they were decelerating.

How close were they? How much track did they have left? Had they slowed down enough?

Closer. Closer. Almost there.

Slower.

Slower.

Slower.

And the train shuddered one more time before grinding to a grudging halt. No one moved for a minute – all three were numb from their fight with the Shadow and the sharp deceleration, rattled like coins in a can on a paint mixer until everything hurt. And after so much noise, no one had the faculties to talk or hear anything. Still, he was the leader, and took it upon himself to get his bearings. They were still in the Dark Hour, and who knew what else was coming. He glanced around, checking the windows. Yep, they’d completely stopped. He pried Yukari’s arms off him and pushed himself to his feet unsteadily and collected his saber, too much in shock to wince in pain, then pulled the emergency exit lever to crack open the door.

He had to get out, and resorted to prying it open with his sword and cursing the need to do so. His old teachers would’ve had his hide nailed to the wall if they ever caught him using his weapons like that. He stuck his head out and looked down the rail, then grimaced at just how close they’d come to ramming the other trains. There couldn’t have been more than twenty feet between them and the next train on the track. But they’d stopped in time. They were alive.

Then there was a shiver in the air, a tactile shift that felt like a wall of water passing over him. He shook it off as it passed, and had to wince at the moon above him, now back to its normal silver. Lights above them flashed on and the sounds of traffic replaced the heavy, oppressive silence. The alien feeling faded and the temperature rose sharply, immediately making him sweat. The Dark Hour was over. And the smell of stagnation and decay was replaced with pollution and smoking metal. Still, he took a long, deep, agonizing breath, and for all the crap that went into his lungs when he did, it was probably the sweetest breath he’d taken in years.

He jumped down to the loose rocks between the tracks and looked around, seeing the nearby loading terminal for cargo and employees. Considering how close they were to the street, there had to be a way out close by. He turned back to the others, about to help them up–

When all the train’s interior lights suddenly flashed on, and every door on every car slid open. The others snapped to attention, looking around frantically while he immediately grasped his sword. There shouldn’t be anything after them with the Dark Hour over, but… Then he heard a chime from the inside of the cars. “Thank you for choosing Central Iwatodai Rails! We hope you have enjoyed your trip and will choose us again in the future! If would like to comment on any aspect of the ride, please call our main office or speak to the conductor at the front of the train. If you think of ways can improve our service or safety regulations, please contact…”

“Great service, no matter the hour,” Minato muttered, letting out a tense breath and regaining his calm as he helped the others out of the train. First Yukari, who was filthy and still shaky on her feet, and Junpei, who’d shouldered his sword but was shading his eyes against the lights around them. He started off slowly, choosing the most level ground while hoping they wouldn’t have to hoof it back to the dorm. The others followed him on unsteady legs. Yukari in particular was holding the middle of her stomach and looked a little green around the gills. Minato slowed down to watch them closely, ready to move if either needed it. By the time they made their way through the terminal and out the front doors, he was about to check his cell phone when the familiar sound of a motorcycle engine purred toward them. He turned in time to see Mitsuru-senpai on her bike, flanked by two black cars, waiting at the bottom of the steps leading out of the train yard.

Less than ten minutes since electronics could function, and she already had a ride home for them. He had to hand it to her – she ran a tight ship.

“Do you guys need a few minutes?” he asked his comrades as he turned back to them.

Junpei groaned and waved at him to go away. Whether it was the injury or the screaming brakes, it seemed his hearing was sensitive. Yukari, on the other hand, shot him a look that felt like vinegar and broken glass. “Does it look like we need it?”

He let her tone roll off him like oil on ice, and gave a small, anticipatory smile in return. He understood that she was tense and just blowing off steam, but it was far too easy when she left herself open like that. “Not at all. I just like talking to myself after all my near-death experiences. It lets me know I’m still alive.”

Evidently their voices were too loud, since Junpei trudged past them to sit on the steps, his head still in his hands. Yukari just glared at blue-haired student. “Do you have to try and be funny? I mean, is this really the time?”

“I don’t plan on almost dying again tonight, so I might not get another chance.”

She shook her head and muttered “Never mind” under her breath as she passed him, slowly lowering herself to the concrete a few yards from Junpei and breathing deeply. Tempting as it was to needle her further, they all deserved a chance to rest. And he was in the best position to talk to Mitsuru-senpai on their behalf. Thus decided, he rested his hand on his saber hilt and silently made his way down the steps, nodding politely to her as he approached. She’d dismounted her bike and watched him as he approached, looking at the others with apparent relief.

He couldn’t even guess what he looked like after all the Shadows he’d killed, but she seemed more curious than amused. Well, that was a start. “Things got a little tense in the last few minutes,” he told her simply, looking to the side and indicating his team mates. “The Shadow hit the accelerator when it died. Having to find the brakes was unexpected and made things tricky. We got knocked around a bit in the process.”

He got a nod and a pensive stare in return as she absorbed the information. “You performed well,” she told him as they watched the pair rest on the steps. “I wasn’t expecting the Shadow to be smart enough to direct the train the way it did. You stopped it at just the right time.”

“We got lucky,” he replied candidly. His ribs still protested with every breath he took, but he endured. He couldn’t look like a wimp in front of his senpai. And the bleeding had stopped. “But it could have gone a lot worse. Yukari-san and Junpei did well considering how much we had to improvise, especially in quarters that cramped. Hopefully our next fight is somewhere more spacious.”

She didn’t respond, instead gracing him with a small smile.

After everything he’d been through, he should have been tired or terrified like his comrades. If not that, then bored and disconnected like usual. Instead, besides the pain, he just felt content, something she was becoming skilled at inspiring in him. Maybe it was her confidence and solid control, or the analytical mind he could see working even from where he stood, or the way the smell he’d noticed earlier was mixing with the scent of leather and easing his worries away. Regardless, she didn’t have to try very hard to create that comfortable silence, and it felt wrong to disturb it. “Since this makes two Shadows of this size, I guess this means there will be others,” he mentioned after several minutes, adjusting his weapons belt and breathing gingerly.

Her face became distant, and she looked to the now-normal moon. “I expect so. It don’t know how many more there are, but it probably wasn’t a coincidence that they appeared here. We have to make sure we’re ready for them.”

He didn’t bother to think of whether it sounded like boasting or bravado – he just said it. “We will be. We won here, so we can only get better.”

She give him a sidelong glance. “You’re confident after your victory. That’s not a bad thing, but be careful to not let it blind you.” Her lips dropped into a line of sober contemplation, and she spoke before he could respond. “But that’s to be expected after tonight, and you don’t seem like you’d easily let your successes get the better of you. So, congratulations. You’ve earned it. Akihiko said you’d be solid under fire, and after tonight I very much agree. When the other Shadows come, we’ll be relying on your skills to see us through.”

He frowned. There was something in her tone he couldn’t place, like finality or grim acceptance, but it felt like something more than that. “Why me? SEES started with you, so shouldn’t you be at the helm when you return to battle?”

She let a small smile tip her lips up, but it settled soon after it appeared. “True, Akihiko and I have been doing this the longest, but you seem to have connected with Takeba and Iori. Or at least they listen to you. That’s what a leader needs, as much as tactical experience. Akihiko and I will support you when his injuries heal, and if I am able to join the team again. So there’s no reason to change things in the future if they work this well now.”

It was strange. Usually he had a feel for people and what they were thinking or where they were coming from in a discussion. Junpei’s bravado, Akihiko-senpai’s blunt, direct instructions, he never had to wonder what they meant. But he couldn’t read her. She was thinking about something, or someone, connected to the Shadows, but the any potential details slipped from his grasp. It was unusual, and more than that he wanted her to not think about the problems of their situation when they’d just come out ahead. “Then we’ve got something to work from, don’t we? Tonight turned out well despite the hitches on the train, so I’d call it the start of a good trend. I mean, we’re at two victories for two attempts. Pretty good odds so far, right?”

She stared at him, and he felt the full weight of her attention. He had to wonder what else she knew about the situation, to look so sober about the subject. But he smiled at her and nodded, hoping he came across as reassuring and trying to project the confidence he felt to her.

Perhaps it worked, or maybe she never needed it, but her face relaxed, and she closed her eyes as she smiled, the first real one he’d seen since the Dark Hour began. “You’re right. We’ve faced challenges so far, but we’ve also prevailed in the face of them. That’s as good a reason for celebrating as any.”

He felt the tension ease out of his body, let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. At least her mood had improved. Yukari and Junpei nodded half-heartedly to them as they passed, heading toward the cars and the waiting attendants. Yukari looked a bit better, but Junpei was still cradling the side of his head. Minato watched them as they passed, and reminded himself to keep an eye of his comrades. It wouldn’t do for lingering injuries to weaken them as a team. He glanced to the side and noted that Mitsuru-senpai was watching them closely as well, perhaps coming to the same conclusion. The way she twisted showed her figure in profile, but what caught his eye was the flash of polished silver strapped to her hip. And the sight of it pulled something to his mind, something he’d forgotten about until now. “Senpai?” he asked quietly.

She gave him a sideways glance, still turned toward the others. “Yes?”

“Akihiko-senpai was talking about his Evoker and the inscription he has on it. He said it was something he received when he officially became a member of SEES. Since you’re the head of the group, I was wondering if yours has something on it too.”

She turned to him and blinked a few times, then set her face into a calm, controlled mask. “It does, but my inscription came from my parents, not from Ikutsuki. The source material the words were taken from is different.”

“Ah. I see. I understand if it’s a personal topic.”

“It is, but thank you for recognizing that.”

He accepted her brushing him off with grace, but wasn’t about to just let it die there. “Still, I hope you’ll tell me someday. It seems like an interesting idea, those inscriptions, especially them being in Greek. After we’ve worked together longer, perhaps?”

She turned to look at him full on, a small smile turning her lips up and an eyebrow raised speculatively. “Maybe, someday.” Then she turned toward her bike and spoke over her shoulder as she started walking. “Très bien. Good work, once again. Make sure you return to the dorm and get some rest. All three of you have earned it.”

“Where are you going?”

“The past week has showed us many things we didn’t know before. Things that should be considered in depth. I think best on my own, so that’s what I plan to do.”

“I see. Well, good night then.”

She nodded and continued to her bike. He waited until she’d geared up and kicked her steed into motion, and watched as she disappeared down the street and around the corner. He waited until he couldn’t hear her before looking skyward.

Maybe someday, huh? Well she hadn’t said ‘no’, and it made him wonder what was written on her Evoker. She said it was something personal. Did that mean uplifting? Grim? Telling? It didn’t seem like she was ashamed of it. Yet another mystery surrounding the redheaded leader of SEES. But that was alright – he always loved a good puzzle.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he murmured to the night, then looked down the steps to the awaiting car, to the dorm that was finally feeling less like a boarding house and more like home. He tossed one more look and a smile at the road Mitsuru had gone down, and made his way down the steps. It had been a close shave, and things went from bad to worse in no time at all. But they’d managed. They’d pulled it off, and he was positive they could do it again. Even past the muck that still covered him and his ribs that he was sure were cracked, the brushes with death from the Shadow and the train, and the promise that it was just the beginning, it really could’ve been worse.


	3. Glide

The hours was late. Or, more accurately, very early. Most of the dorm was asleep, SEES deciding to forego its nocturnal operations in lieu of study time and a proper night’s sleep. And the Dark Hour had come and gone. One room, however, was dimly lit and home to whole wall units of books on a variety of topics, shelves and cases holding files that dated back as far as ten years prior. Research and records, filled to the margins with notes and amendments and coloured tags. And sitting at the desk in the middle of the room was a man hunched over his reports, scribbling away furiously.

Almost done. Almost… Finally. That was the last of them.

The shuffling of paper and scratch of the pen ceased with a sigh of relief and the creaking of a chair as Ikutsuki leaned back to rub the bridge of his nose. For all the support he got from the Group, there were still many day-to-day matters that needed to be tended to in the dorm. And he’d been so busy making the arrangements for the new residents and ensuring that the night operations were covered up that the paperwork had been accumulating steadily until now. He doubted anyone besides the Kirijo accountants missed his reports, but it was the large details that kept the dorm running and SEES operating as effectively as they did, and large details were made up of small details. Each of which needed attention and due consideration. He glanced to the carrying cases on his desk and blinked thoughtfully. The Evokers of the three newest members of SEES were waiting patiently for their engravings. He let his thoughts turn to the trio in question.

Iori Junpei and Takeba Yukari were easy enough to understand – Iori wanted to matter in the larger picture. He was a common face, a nobody, who suddenly had the opportunity to participate in something much bigger than himself. It was a chance to be significant in a way that had been absent in his life until now. A chance to matter. And Takeba’s interest in her father’s fate was hardly a secret. Well, perhaps it was to the rest of SEES. But her interest in the matter would keep her moving forward. She was passionate and fiery, and it was clear she blamed the Kirijo for her family affairs, but she was still a useful addition to the group.

He frowned to himself in the shadows. The odd one out was Arisato Minato.

Despite how well Arisato worked with Iori and Takeba, and even Akihiko now that the boxer had rejoined the active team roster, he was still very much an enigma. He gave his opinion often enough when asked, and even when he wasn’t, but it was difficult to know what he was thinking, regardless of whether or not he was talking. Ikutsuki had struck up conversations with him several times since his arrival, but despite how forthcoming the teen was, there was always the sense that he had three answers to every question he was asked, and only ever gave one.

Then there was the matter of his first summoning. That had taken up several days of Ikutsuki’s time, checking records and talking to the Group’s finest minds, searching for a precedent or any hints of an explanation. None existed. After all their research into Shadows and Personas, it was a unique incident. One that sent shivers of anticipation through him. The others might have some idea of Arisato’s potential, but to say it was beyond measure was an understatement. Because despite what Mitsuru and Akihiko believed, that was more than a summoning gone wrong. Shinjiro had undergone such a thing, but his Persona hadn’t transformed into something else. Something… far beyond expectations. And yet the wielder of such power, such potential, played his hand close to the vest. His inquiries into the Shadows and Tartarus had been more direct, more focused, than Takeba’s. He knew more than he let on, but it was impossible to tell if it was a great deal, or only a little.

No, for all of Arisato’s talent and strong contributions to the team, and despite how dedicated he was to their goals, he was still very much a rogue factor. A wild card.

Hm… a wild card. The thought stuck in his mind, grabbing hold of his attention and refusing to let go. Unpredictable. Volatile. Someone neither side could write off. Yes, that would work nicely.

He reached for his engraving tools and Arisato’s Evoker.

 

* * *

 

“What do you think of him?”

Mitsuru looked up from her books, meeting Akihiko’s stare across the foyer on the dorm’s first floor. It was a lazy Sunday morning, approaching noon, and the kouhai were either studying (Arisato and Takeba) or outside enjoying the fresh air (Iori). It was an excellent day for the latter, as Akihiko’s light training clothes attested to. Mitsuru was going over her notes and studies, having received a package of college texts in the mail. “Think of who? Arisato or Iori?”

It was easy enough to infer who Akihiko was talking about, but she was nearly done her paragraph, and needed a few extra seconds to finish it and commit it to memory. Akihiko allowed her the time before speaking up. “Arisato, of course. The Shadow on the train, our operations in Tartarus. What about his Personas? I’ve never seen someone have more than one, or have that strong of a reaction on their first try.”

“He is an interesting case,” she replied mildly, marking the page she was on and standing to address him. “And I have the same questions you do. Perhaps more.”

Her companion gestured for her to continue. “Like?”

She glanced at the stairs, making sure that they were alone, before continuing. “His timing is impeccable. One might say too convenient to be a coincidence. Years of investigating Shadows and we never saw anything like what attacked us less than a week after he arrived. A month later, another one appears. He decided to help us with very little added information, he’s established a rapport with Takeba and Iori, and he fits the role of a team leader perfectly. Everything’s coming together like words of a phrase. It’s as though these events were waiting for him to arrive before going into motion.”

“That’s a bit far-fetched,” Akihiko noted, though he didn’t look skeptical as he replied. It was clear that those details weren’t lost on him either. “But you’re right on the timing part. And his talent’s impressive. Way past what I expected for a newcomer.”

“What’s your opinion of him?” she asked in return.

Akihiko shrugged. “He’s got a lot of potential for fighting in the ring. No denying that. His footwork, his balance, and his attitude all say he’s used to combat. I mean, he’s taken to bringing down Shadows pretty well.”

Mitsuru looked at him knowingly, caution and a trace of resignation in her eyes. “He’s not an opponent for you to assess and defeat, Akihiko. He might be skilled with a sword, but fighting you in the ring is completely different.”

He gave her a look of feigned innocence, which was convincing except for the cunning glint in his eyes. “I wouldn’t do that, Mitsuru. Not unless he asked. And you never know – he just might. There is crossover between swordsmanship and boxing. Might give him perspective, help him build stamina.”

She sighed and turned back to her books. Akihiko’s drive when it came to fighting bordered on the single-minded, and while she knew he wouldn’t push Arisato into training with him if he was reluctant, she also knew that the Rising Star of Tatsumi Port Island wouldn’t go easy on anyone who stepped into the ring. Arisato might be an exception, but any slack he got wouldn’t go very far.

But then the thought of what might happen in the ring crossed her mind, and she hid a smile from her long-time partner in crime. It was unlikely… No, it was nearly impossible, but it would be enormously interesting if Arisato showed all the potential Akihiko spoke of and one-upped his senpai. It wouldn’t last long, considering how competitive Akihiko was, but it would certainly change the dynamic on the team. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she could imagine Akihiko’s face if Arisato put him on the mat. The mental image made her chuckle to herself before she turned back to her books.

“Something funny?” he asked curiously, a silver eyebrow raised.

“Nothing,” she assured him, still smiling. “But you raised a point earlier, that Arisato might take well to training with you. It might help us learn more about him if he felt comfortable enough to exercise with you.” Akihiko blinked, then his eyes shifted to the side, deep in thought. “He looks up to his senpai,” she continued, gesturing to her comrade, then to herself. “And there are things we might learn from him in such a scenario.”

“I’ll give it some thought,” Akihiko told her, still mulling the idea over. She smiled encouragingly at his words. Coming from someone else, they might have been dismissive or forgotten as soon as they were said, but when Akihiko had an idea, especially when it pertained to his training, he stuck with it and explored it to the fullest.

“You know,” he murmured, humour in his voice as he looked at her across the foyer, “you could do the same if you wanted. Arisato uses a saber, so he’d make a good fencing partner. The others said they’d love to see a match between you two. And when was the last time you had a serious opponent?”

She leaned back a little, surprised at the suggestion. It made perfect sense considering they were the two members of SEES who used fencing weapons, and Arisato seemed the sort who would fight competitively. But she hadn’t thought of it until Akihiko mentioned it. Indeed, she hadn’t been part of the fencing circuit in quite some time on account of her responsibilities with SEES and to her father, despite numerous invitations to return. “Did they now?” she asked.

Akihiko nodded and gestured toward the doors. “Yeah. Iori and Takeba brought it up when he talked about his fighting lessons. How he used to be in a kendo class and switched when his teammates didn’t like how good he was. Anyway, it came up, and if you wanted to get to know him better, then a match or two might not hurt.”

What he was saying made sense, and she knew it. Fighting was a pure form of expression, after all, with intentions and thoughts and desires melted down into actions rather than words. It was why she trusted Shinjiro despite the harsh face he showed the world – they’d fought once, and she knew how strong an ally and how close a friend he would be, and not just because of his connection to Akihiko. Still, sparring with Arisato? She couldn’t deny that there was some appeal to the idea, but there were probably other ways to get to know the transfer student without bruising his ego and backside. “I’ll think about it,” she replied, using Akihiko’s words.

Further discussion was cut off as footsteps on the stairs announced that Takeba or Arisato was coming toward them. Both senpai looked up expectantly, and Takeba Yukari appeared in her usual pink cardigan and dark skirt. She nodded to them both as she approached, but didn’t say anything as she headed toward the door. Mitsuru was content to let the girl do as she wished – despite working together for this long, it was clear that Takeba still harboured suspicion and distrust for the Kirijo Group, and that evidently extended to Ikutsuki and Mitsuru herself.

Akihiko, however, was not as connected to Takeba’s suspicions, and utilized this neutrality by calling her as she passed. “Hey, Takeba. Wait a sec.”

Both young women looked at him curiously, and he bore the weight of their attention with ease. “Yeah? What’s up?”

“We were just talking about Arisato, and we were wondering what you thought of him,” Akihiko told her smoothly, like he’d been planning the conversation for the whole morning.

Takeba blinked, then turned to face him, curiosity obvious in her stance. “What do I think about Minato-kun?”

“Yeah. You’ve been working with him on the trips to Tartarus for longer than we have,” Akihiko explained, gesturing to himself and Mitsuru. “You worked with him against the Shadow on the train, and you’re both in the same class. What do you think of him? As a student, as a part of the team, whatever.”

Takeba was silent for a moment, thinking over her response, and Mitsuru was expecting the girl to brush off his inquiry when she finally replied. “Well, he’s a lot more talkative than I expected him to be. I dunno. I mean, I got the impression he’d be pretty quiet or awkward at first, but he’s got a mouth on him.”

“His previous evaluations stated he was very subdued in his facial expressions and vocal range,” Mitsuru supplied calmly from her place by the couch. “We assumed that it was an indication of his emotional state, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Perhaps he makes up for his expressions by voicing his opinion whenever the opportunity presents itself.”

Takeba gave a small snort, shaking her head at Mitsuru’s words. “Facial expressions and voice? I suppose that’s a way of looking at it. He’s always got something to say about pretty much everything, even when it’d be better if he didn’t talk at all.” She shrugged. “That’s probably why he hasn’t made too many friends at school so far. Besides that, he’s good at killing Shadows and dealing with his Personas. He hasn’t been at it for much longer than Stupei, but he’s taking to all this stuff pretty easily. Speaking of which, why does he have more than one Persona?”

“We’re still looking into that ourselves,” Akihiko admitted. “It’s not something we’ve ever seen before, so it’s hard to figure out where it came from.”

Takeba looked at Akihiko, then at Mitsuru, and shook her head. “Either way, he can definitely fight with the best of us. And he thinks on his feet. Besides that, I don’t know what else to say about him. Not sure where your people got the idea that he was distant though, because he’s got plenty of attitude once you get him talking.”

“I wonder if that’s a sign of how comfortable he is here,” Mitsuru pondered aloud. “No one speaks openly to doctors or psychologists, after all.”

Yukari shrugged again and half turned toward the door. “Could be. Even when he talks about himself, I can’t figure out what he’s thinking – he’s impossible to get a handle on. Or at least he is for me, and I don’t know if Junpei’s had any more luck with him than I have.”

The two senpai took her gesture as an indication of the conversation being over. Akihiko nodded politely to her, closing the discussion. “Thanks for the feedback, Takeba. It was helpful.”

She nodded and headed out the door without another word. Akihiko and Mitsuru looked at each other, asking questions and giving answers without saying a word, and, as though just thinking his name summoned the student in question, there was another pair of footsteps on the stairs. Footsteps that approached and gave way to sneakers, a casual pair of slacks, and a pressed white dress shirt with short sleeves. On someone else, the clothes would have stood out, but they just seemed to be part of his personal style. Arisato bowed politely to the two as he reached the foyer. “Akihiko-senpai. Mitsuru-senpai,” he said in greeting.

Mitsuru inclined her head in return, and Akihiko turned to face him. “Come down for some air?”

Arisato nodded. “I was going stir crazy upstairs. Needed some space. I think I might go for a walk, stretch my legs out.”

Mitsuru saw Akihiko’s eyes light up in a second, and suppressed a sigh. Once she’d mentioned using exercise to get to know the transfer student better, it was only a matter of time before a plan was implemented, and Arisato had appeared at precisely the right moment to kick Akihiko’s interest into gear. “Well, if you need some exercise,” the boxing champion began with a cordial grin, “I could use a jogging partner. I know a few places around here that’re great for running. We can discuss how you’re fitting in with school and the others.”

Arisato blinked as his senpai, a student who rarely said more than six words when four would do, proposed to have a conversation with him. “Uh… That sounds great, Akihiko-senpai. I appreciate the offer.”

Akihiko nodded enthusiastically, turning toward the door with long strides. “Sounds good. Let’s go. We’ll be back later, Mitsuru.”

“Don’t push yourselves too hard,” she told him firmly. “Iori and Takeba can’t explore Tartarus on their own if you two run yourselves out of commission.”

Arisato seemed about to answer when Akihiko waved her concerns off calmly. “That won’t be a problem. We’ll just be going for a warm up this time.”

And she was left shaking her head in the silence of the foyer as the door closed behind them. Boys and their games. There was no stopping Akihiko once he got an idea in his head, and Arisato’s compliance might lead to something he’d regret later.

Ah well. If nothing else, it would keep Akihiko happy and Arisato from slacking off during his combat training. And maybe, just maybe, he’d start fighting his senpai in the ring. She chuckled to herself and went back to her books. That would be a sight to see, and probably a learning experience for both of them. And with Akihiko taking on the role of a trainer, there was probably no need for her to spar with Arisato like he’d suggested. After all, physical contests were more Akihiko’s style, and Mitsuru had other means at her disposal to get to know the transfer student better. She glanced at her cell phone, laying on the table and still containing the message from Fushimi regarding the vacancies in the Student Council, an idea beginning to form.

Such opportunities didn’t come every day, after all.

 

* * *

 

Minato was stiff the next day, carefully walking to school and through the halls and slowly twisting in place as he lowered himself into his chair, trying to find the position that his muscles objected to the least. It had been a while since he’d been this sore, and if he hadn’t started fighting in Tartarus and practicing his fencing so soon after his move to Tatsumi Port Island, he’d be far worse off than just stiff. Akihiko-senpai’s idea of a ‘warm up’ had involved a light jog almost across town, which hadn’t been a problem by itself. The problem stemmed from what he was warming up for, which had involved races up several very long flights of stairs around the downtown district and near the local train stations. If Akihiko-senpai hadn’t been in such a chatty mood, Minato would have found something else to do before the first mile was up. But hearing about the history of SEES, about how long Akihiko-senpai and Mitsuru-senpai had known each other, kept him quite interested, and that meant running to keep up so he could hear more.

Of course, the information had seemed like a fair trade when he was getting it. Now it felt like he’d been cheated.

“You okay?” Junpei asked as their lunch break started.

“I’ll manage,” Minato replied, stretching in place until the aches in his legs subsided.

“I wouldn’t think that exercising with Akihiko-senpai would do that to you,” Junpei continued with a raised eyebrow. “I mean, you seemed like you were in shape before with, you know, work.”

“Different muscles for different things,” was Minato’s response as he bent almost in half, still in his seat and reaching for his toes. Compressing his stomach and focusing on holding everything steady made his breathing shallow and his words short. “Fencing and kendo aren’t the same as climbing and endurance training. Our activities’ve kept me in pretty good shape, but yesterday was focused on building up completely different muscle groups.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” Junpei conceded before leaning forward with a conspiratorial look to his eyes, talking quietly while Minato straightened out in his seat. “Though you might want to keep it a secret. A lot of people here would pay for the chance to hang out with him like that. You remember how he was to those girls back when we started getting together? He’s like that with everyone, no matter who they are or how much they ask. So don’t let it out that you’ve got a free ticket with him. Catch my drift?”

Minato had noticed the long stares he’d been getting the moment Akihiko-senpai’s name had been mentioned. From the students behind Junpei, from a group near the end of the room, and, he guessed, from behind himself if the suddenly cut-off conversations were any indication. Hopefully the warning hadn’t been too late. Or that Junpei’s generosity hadn’t tipped everyone else off, enabling the very thing he’d been warning against. “I’ll remember that,” Minato promised quietly. “Thanks for the heads up.”

Junpei nodded and tapped his ball cap in response. And it made sense, Minato deduced. His classmates already knew that he was living in the same dorm as Yukari and Mitsuru-senpai. For a nobody from nowhere to suddenly have an in with the most popular students in the entire school, albeit for different reasons than anyone could guess, would go a long way toward disrupting the balance of things. The patches of silence around him were already telling him that he was fast becoming part of the politics he wanted no part of.

Just as he’d worked out the logic in his head and vowed to keep from doing anything too flamboyant, however, the doors at the front of the class opened. Which wasn’t unusual, considering it was lunchtime and they were one of the two ways into the class. But they opened to reveal Mitsuru-senpai, dressed in her usual boots and skirt and blouse. Like it had been planned on a movie set, the sunlight from outside seemed especially bright as soon as she walked in, bringing that aura of authority and the quiet of the students around her as she moved. Minato noted that she moved very smoothly, even in her boots. She had an easy stride, one step flowing into the next. Akihiko-senpai had said that she was a fencer, and it showed in the strong and graceful way she carried herself, even without a sword at her hip. He let his eyes follow her as she stopped and looked around, and couldn’t help but notice that her hair looked especially fetching today, resting on her shoulder and down her back in its usual style and shade of dark red, just before she caught sight of him and walked over. And she stopped right at his desk, head cocked to the side and eyes welcoming.

Everything around them went quiet. Never mind hearing a pin drop, Minato was sure he could have heard the air move in the class. And it didn’t.

“Arisato,” she greeted him in a clear voice. “There’s something I’d like to speak to you about. It’s regarding a topic of common interest and something I think you are able to help me with. Could I have some of your time?”

Junpei stared. The class was silent despite the students that were turning to their friends to make sure they were all seeing and hearing the same thing. Minato suppressed a groan. It figured. After Junpei had just finished talking about the virtues of discretion and flying under the radar, too. And Mitsuru-senpai’s words made it pretty clear that this wasn’t just a social greeting – she’d singled him out for a reason. Much as he wanted to be anywhere else right then, he also knew that the students who admired her would be out for his blood if he shot her down in such a public place and way. And those same students would hate him for catching her attention in the first place. He knew he was choosing between the claws or the fangs, so he nodded gracefully, accepted his fate, and rose to his feet, suppressing a wince as his muscles pulled painfully. “I’m available right now if you need me for something.” He bit his tongue to keep from using her name – no need to make this worse.

“Excellent,” she told him with a small smile. “Please come with me.” She turned and strode toward the doors, and Minato kept his eyes forward, feeling the stares of his classmates, Junpei included, prickle his skin. They made their way through the door and into the hallway, and any reprieve Minato thought he’d be granted was immediately crushed as the students in the hallway were similarly affected by Mitsuru-senpai’s presence, and by his place right behind her.

He focused on ignoring them and kept his mind on why she was there in the first place. “Is there something I can do for you? Me specifically, I mean. Or is this regarding work?”

She slowed down enough for him to walk at her side, and he moved in step with her when she gestured for him to do so. “It’s nothing so serious,” she told him patiently. “But the Student Council has been short-staffed lately, and there is an opening for a position I believe you would fill quite well, so I felt that a personal invitation was in order.”

She stopped in front of a door to slide it open. He stopped right behind her, absorbing her words and finding a genuine sense of surprise at her words. Him? On the Student Council? It wouldn’t have been his first choice, or probably his second since he wasn’t much of a leader when it came to his classmates. But Mitsuru-senpai had come to ask him specifically, so… “Why me?” he asked as they moved through the door. There had to be volunteers by the dozen if she was looking for someone to help her.

“I’ll mention that shortly,” she told him as she walked into the room and stood at the head of the long table. Minato stayed back and looked down the room, noticing the eyes that were on him and her. There were only a few students in the room, but he got the impression that he was being tested, even as he just stood there. “Good afternoon,” she greeted those in attendance. “Thank you all for making this meeting on such short notice.”

“It’s no problem at all, Kirijo-senpai,” a girl with brown hair and glasses told her immediately. Minato didn’t recognize her from his own class, and the markings on her uniform collar indicated that she was a year behind him. Then she turned toward him, and Minato noted that her eyes were brown as well. “Is this Arisato-senpai?” That solved it – only someone a year behind him would refer to him as ‘senpai.’

“That’s correct,” Mitsuru answered before turning to address Minato himself. “This is the Gekkoukan Student Council. This,” she indicated the girl with the glasses, “is Fushimi Chihiro, the group Treasurer. And Hidetoshi Odagiri is the head of the Disciplinary Committee.” Minato turned to the dark-haired student and bowed politely, who responded with a nod. “There are others, but they weren’t able to make it.”

“It’s an honour,” Minato told them before turning to Mitsuru-senpai. “So what is the matter you wanted to discuss?”

“The Student Council is in need of some additional members, and I thought that you might want to meet some of the students on the executive when being offered a position among them,” Mitsuru explained simply.

Minato blinked and let that sink in, and the surprise must have shown on his face because Hidetoshi turned to Mitsuru-senpai and asked “Did you tell him about this before bringing him here? It seems like this is newer to him than it is to us.”

“Arisato-kun is very adept at changing as situations require,” she assured him, still looking at Minato. “I didn’t bring you here to pressure you. If you don’t feel that this would suit you, you’re welcome to not join. But if you were to accept my offer, you should understand the group and what it looks like before making a decision.”

“I’m alright,” he replied, though he didn’t know exactly why that was the case. Normally he’d shirk the chance to be in the spotlight and all the responsibilities that came with it. He had no problem leaving the clubs and politics of the school to those who thrived in such a situation, and yet being at the centre of attention didn’t bother him as much at the moment. Perhaps it was Mitsuru-senpai’s influence again. “I’d like to know more about what you had in mind, actually.”

She smiled as she turned to face him directly. “The position is one I think you would fit quite well, and wouldn’t require you to be at the heart of the Student Council’s affairs if you don’t wish to be.” Damn, but she was good. Had he been that obvious? “The fact of the matter is that I find myself in need of an assistant. Someone to help me keep the affairs of the Student Council straight along with my other concerns.” The look she gave him told him she was talking about SEES operations. “I feel that you would be uniquely qualified to help me, and I felt that the experience might benefit you.”

“Wouldn’t that be suited for the Student Council’s VP?” Minato asked. “Or is that position vacant as well?”

“We do have a Vice President,” Hidetoshi told him, “but she couldn’t be here today. Even if she could take on the role we’re offering you, she has other obligations, shall we say, that make her a less suitable candidate. The position we’re offering you is essentially the role of a secretary, and you’d be working directly under the President if you accepted. You could also work with some of us if you desire to.”

A chance to work with Mitsuru-senpai directly? It wasn’t what he expected when he woke up that morning. He knew that there could be issues, especially considering the matters he’d discussed with Junpei earlier, but the chance to work closer to the Kirijo heiress was tempting. As tempting as the memories of her dressed in her motorcycle gear were.

And he’d already signed on to help fight the Shadows. What was a little more danger, this time from his fellow Man?

Before he could answer, Mitsuru-senpai took her seat near Fushimi. “I’ll give you some time to think it over. I wanted to ensure you knew where the Student Council room was in case you decide to join us. Lunch is nearly over, however, and I have some matters to attend to.”

Hidetoshi rose from his seat and looked to the two ladies. “I have concluded my business with Fushimi-san, Kirijo-senpai, so I can escort Arisato-kun back to his class and answer any questions he might have.”

“I would appreciate that,” Mitsuru-senpai replied before nodding in farewell to Minato.

Feeling the tone shift, Minato bowed to Mitsuru and left the room, Hidetoshi close behind. The transfer student took a steadying breath and went over the situation in his head. Joining the Student Council? It wasn’t what he would have signed up for on his own, but the opportunities were hard to ignore. And if nothing else, it would look good on a résumé.

“Student Council isn’t for class credit,” Hidetoshi informed him as they stood in the hallway, near the wall so as to be out of the way of traffic, “but we’d appreciate any help you can offer. Kirijo-senpai’s word goes a fair ways here, and–“

“No need to ask,” Minato told him calmly, eyes on the door they’d just closed while he thought of the redhead who was working on the other side. “I’ll take the position. Is there any paperwork I have to sign or reading material I need to go over to before I’m officially a member?”

Hidetoshi pulled back for a moment, surprised by his immediate acceptance, but regained his composure and gave an earnest smile. Or at least it looked like he was trying to smile – it was hard to say. “No, nothing like that,” he assured Minato. “There are rules of conduct, of course, and you will need to be brought up to speed on the current goings on of the Student Council if you plan on contributing to the group. Of course, the position is voluntary, and no one’s expecting you to make every meeting if you have other obligations to attend to. That said, you can start tomorrow if you feel so inclined. I know that the others would welcome a new addition to the group.”

“Then I’ll be attending meetings starting tomorrow.” Hidetoshi nodded and seemed about to turn away when Minato held a restraining hand out and gave a small smirk. “Would you be able to tell me, in that case, why I was singled out for this position right from the start? I hardly think you’ve had so few volunteers for the Student Council that I stand out that much.”

Hidetoshi tilted his head to the side, mouth set in a thoughtful line. “ I think you underestimate your potential contributions to the group, Arisato-kun. Sanada-kun and Kirijo-senpai have spoken of your aptitude when dealing with new situations and being part of a team. They are the ones who recommended you for the position, and you’ve made a strong showing for yourself already. Whether you can keep up with the President remains to be seen, but I don’t think that will pose a challenge for you.”

Minato nodded in reply. “I see. Higher risk, higher reward, and what better way to test someone than by tossing them into the deep end, right?”

Hidetoshi shrugged. “You can think of it that way, if you want. In the end, it was the President’s idea, and I’m looking forward to seeing how well you perform. You clearly respect her, but not to the point that you’d let that get in the way of saying what you think or feel. And that’s what the Student Council needs, regardless of the position – someone with their head on straight.” Minato cocked an eyebrow and smirked at his senpai’s words, but Hidetoshi continued. “We have had other volunteers, as you mentioned before, but most students do it as a chance to get close to Kirijo-senpai without thinking of the responsibilities that come with the position. When put to the test, their skills have been… less than acceptable. If it makes you feel better, consider this invitation proof of your making the short list.”

Minato couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips. “I see. Thanks, Hidetoshi-senpai. I’ll do that.”

Whatever else they would have discussed was cut short by the lunch bell ringing, so Minato walked back to his classroom with Hidetoshi close by, talking about the Student Council and what the expectations were, when Hidetoshi stopped and glowered hard at a desk they were coming up to. Minato turned to look at what had caught his attention, then noticed that the desk being glared at was his. And it wasn’t simply the desk that was earning all the attention.

“Who left these here?!” Hidetoshi snapped, looking around the room angrily. Some students turned to their books or lunches and didn’t look up, while the braver ones spread their hands and shook their heads.

Minato walked over to his desk and sat in the chair, taking in the ‘gifts’ that had been left for him during the break. Resting on his desk, centred and looking like it belonged there, was a small flower vase. And within that vase was a handful of flowers. The silence in the room was oppressive and heavy, as if everyone was waiting for him to respond, and that response would be loud and violent. Even more than what Hidetoshi’s glare was promising.  
Instead, Minato smiled. Genuinely smiled. Someone had left white chrysanthemums on his desk, an entire bouquet’s worth, and had even surrounded it with letters still in their envelopes.

“I can guess what those say,” Hidetoshi growled, walking over to stand next to Minato. “This is ridiculous. And completely inexcusable.” Minato slipped a letter out and read it, his eyes lighting up at the calligraphy:

“A new student should know his place! Someone like you doesn’t deserve to be around Kirijo-senpai and Takeba! Die! Disappear!”

Whoever had written it had felt strongly about the matter – there were creases and press marks in the paper under the ink, and there were jagged strokes and clipped swoops where there should have been neat lines and curves. “Someone seems angry about this,” Minato noted lightly, passing the note to Hidetoshi and reaching for another. “Sanada-senpai can do much better than you for a training partner! Stay away from him!” Then another. Then two more. The wording changed a little, and some were more neatly written than the others, but the sentiment was the same – several students seemed to take exception with him being acquainted with Akihiko-senpai, Mitsuru-senpai, and Yukari. That they were worded so strongly only made him chuckle. “These are an absolute scream,” he told Hidetoshi just as class was about to start, leaning forward to take a long sniff of the flowers, letting the fine scent fill his head and clear his mind. The entire class was looking at the pair expectantly, but Minato just glanced at the letters again while Hidetoshi fumed. “I should frame these and put them up at the dorm.”

“You should report these to the school administration,” Hidetoshi insisted. “This behaviour is reprehensible, and should be dealt with immediately.”

“I think it’s rather appropriate,” Minato said calmly and clearly, louder than was needed for the discipline committee’s rep to hear. “And we shouldn’t be in such a hurry to dash such fragile wishes and dreams of others, right? After all, this is as close as some of these students will ever get to Mitsuru-senpai and Yukari.”

The silence that followed rivalled the audio dead zone that had followed Mitsuru-senpai into the room earlier. Some of the students were stunned. Others were indifferent. Hidetoshi simply cocked an eyebrow and said he had to get to class, leaving Minato at his desk. Before the disciplinary committee member was gone, however, Minato could feel the glares and raw hatred rolling in from the corners of the room. The sheer feel of it made him smile, which only made the ire intensify. He leaned back and held the vase near his face, taking a long, deep sniff of the flowers again. Then he took the letters and set them into an empty sleeve of his book bag, pulling out his text for the class as Junpei and Yukari slipped in at the last minute. The silence was still heavy, and the glares were fierce even as one of the ladies in question arrived.

“Made it,” Yukari whispered to him as she sat down. Then she looked at the flowers in the vase that was still on his desk, her eyes inquisitive before they narrowed with suspicion. “Minato-kun… where’d you get those? Are those flowers what I think they are?”

He had to bite his lips to keep from laughing out loud. There was no way she could have known, but her question, addressing only him as she entered, only twisted the knife more, and he could almost hear the teeth gritting around him. How Yukari didn’t, he’d never know.

But that was enough fun for the day. He slid the flowers to the side and opened his books. “It was nothing,” he told her calmly, his face as smooth and guileless as a marble statue’s. “Just some students welcoming me to the class is all.”

The lecture started just then. And the smile on Minato’s lips, unseen by everyone else, remained fixed until he left school that day. First an invitation by Mitsuru-senpai, then a stellar performance by Yukari that she didn’t even know she was putting on.

Yes, all in all, it had been a good day. So good that he didn’t notice his sore muscles.

But all good things must come to an end, as Minato had learned as a child. And his fun at school was no different.

His good mood hadn’t lasted beyond the day. By the next morning he was back to normal, even though his classmates went from quiet to cold around him, and his run with Akihiko that afternoon had been more invigorating and less painful than the first. But his muscles weren’t his concern by the time he was finished dinner and in his room that night. His mind and his special Shadow-killing talents were.

Minato rested back against his door, his head gently touching the cold, solid wood while his eyes went distant. It was still there. Despite what Akihiko-senpai and Mitsuru-senpai told him before, something felt off with his Personas, like they were rising to his commands before he pulled the trigger. Which was odd because SEES had been taking it easy since Ikutsuki hadn’t returned their Evokers yet. Normally his Personas were always ready to respond to his call, eager to follow his commands, but this was different. Now it felt like they were pushing against his skin, prickling and tingling just under the surface. Like being supercharged with electricity and having no ground to tie onto. Were they backed up? Itching to get out and break something, and this was how it felt when he went too long without fighting?

No, that didn’t make sense. Otherwise he’d have felt this before he came to Tatsumi Port Island. Unless the first summoning fundamentally changed something inside him so that his Personas affected him differently than when they’d been dormant. But that didn’t make sense either, because he didn’t feel very different from before he’d arrived.

He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, trying to focus on the cool friction instead of the lively humming between his muscles and bones. Perhaps where he should be starting was finding out what was normal for a Persona-User, and what wasn’t. He didn’t have a measurement of ‘normal’ to go by yet, so maybe he was worrying over nothing. The thought felt wrong and hollow, of course. So much so that he knew that wasn’t the case the moment the thought crossed his mind. But it did help to take his mind off things enough so that he could get to sleep that night.

While he didn’t feel much better the next day, the morning run with Akihiko before school had been a welcome distraction. It took his mind off the tingling that was growing to a full-blown itch and let him focus on his breathing and the pull of his muscles. Even the run up the stairs didn’t hurt as much this time, despite how little time had passed.”You’re in pretty good shape,” Akihiko-senpai told him as they rested at the train station. “I thought you’d need more work than this.”

“Most people our age do,” Minato replied, looking out over the concrete structures around them. “But our work wouldn’t really suit someone who wasn’t in shape, would it?”

Akihiko-senpai grunted in agreement and took a drink of water from the bottle he’d brought with him.

Minato sighed as the silence stretched out between them. No time like the present, and they had to get back to the dorm soon if they were going to make it to school on time. “I was wondering if I could ask you something,” he said finally, not looking at his senpai as he spoke quietly. “About our Personas.”

“Hm? Questions we didn’t cover before?” When Minato nodded, the boxer stood a little straighter and gestured for him to continue. “We’ve got some time, so go ahead.”

“There’s something… strange about my Personas. About how they feel.” He described the sensations as best he could to his senpai, careful not to leave out any details, and when he was done, the older teen looked a bit more pale than he usually did, despite the flush of exertion he’d sported before.

“I’m glad you told me about this,” he muttered when Minato finished speaking.

“It started out as different Personas with distinct voices, and there wasn’t a problem. It felt pretty natural that way. But now things’re different. It’s like they’re always there, waiting to come out.”

Akihiko-senpai’s face grew guarded, like something about the whole situation was familiar to him, and not in a good way. “Maybe it’s an effect of having more than one. Are they all trying to get out at once?”

Minato hesitated, then shook his head. “I’m not sure. I don’t think so. It doesn’t fluctuate or shift, so… I guess if I had to describe it, it’s like a steady rise of sound in band class. Growing and growing, but always from one place. I think if they were all trying to get out, the feeling might be less even, more like they were pushing each other out of the way.” He sighed and brushed his bangs back. “I’m probably not explaining it very well.”

“Are they under your control?” Akihiko-senpai pressed. “Do you feel like you’re going to lose control? Or are you alright so far?”

“I’m fine in that sense,” Minato assured him. “It feels different from the first time, but not to the point of them breaking loose or something. It’s more like it gets to a certain point and then stays there, without crossing that threshold.”

“You’re sure?”

“It’s been like this for the last couple days, so yeah. Very sure.”

Silver eyes were hard and piercing as he stayed silent for a while, trying to dissect the transfer student like a science project. “I’ve never heard of something like that,” Akihiko-senpai replied finally. “I know I’ve had days where the summoning’s gone a lot better than usual, like Polydeuces was just waiting for me to pull the trigger, but not to the extent you’re talking about. Not unless I’m in Tartarus, and definitely not out of the Dark Hour.”

“So we’re back to square one,” Minato mused aloud.

“No.” The word was sharp and curt, snapping out like the lash of a whip. “There might be a precedent. I’m not sure though – I’ll look into it with Mitsuru. Until then, be very careful to keep tabs on it. How you feel, when it feels like they’re getting agitated, anything, big or small, that might help. We just got our team back together; the last thing we need is another screw-up that’ll set us back.”

“I’ll be careful,” Minato promised. “I don’t want to think of what could happen to me if all my Personas went out of control. I doubt it would be pretty.”

Something about that seemed to trouble Akihiko-senpai. His eyes were a mix of hard and distant, and it was clear that there was more to the subject than a senpai looking out for his kouhai. Still, he took a deep breath and faced Minato head-on. “Look.” Akihiko’s voice was as serious as a heart attack, but even it paled compared to his stare. “I meant what I said before. A Persona gone out of control’s nothing to shrug off. You feel like you’re going to lose it or like something’s wrong, you let us know, alright? Mitsuru and I’ll help you as best we can, and that’s better than the alternative. So don’t think you have to keep it from us or that you’re not part of the team. Got it?”

Minato blinked, then narrowed his eyes. That was… unexpected. No, not unexpected. But certainly different. Akihiko-senpai was more stalwart and straightforward as any student, any person, Minato could remember ever meeting, so he obviously didn’t say those words lightly. But what was unexpected was that he’d said them at all. Akihiko-senpai was, after all, pretty quiet when it came to most subjects. But not Personas. Minato recalled that his senpai had been intense on the topic of out-of-control summonings before, when Junpei joined the team. Was it something that SEES looked out for because of the possible damage and the risk to a team member? Or was it personal? Mitsuru-senpai didn’t seem to fixate on it as much as Akihiko-senpai did. Why not? Minato could think of a few reasons, all of which were valid, but he had a question to answer first. “I understand, Akihiko-senpai,” he replied, staring the teen in the eye as seriously as he could muster. “If anything feels wrong, or more wrong than it does now, I’ll let you know. No matter what.”

Argent eyes dug into him and held him in place. Minato met his gaze and tried to see something in his senpai, to find out where the intensity was coming from. But before he could get anywhere, Akihiko-senpai blinked and backed away with a heavy sigh. “Good. Make sure you do.”

Minato cocked his head to the side, frowning in thought, then dismissing his curiosity. Much as he’d liked to have gotten more from Akihiko-senpai, he could push only so far before someone pushed back. And as much as the questions were prodding him, he owed it to his senpai to be patient and exercise restraint. There would be other opportunities, and at least now he knew more than he did before.

Still, all it told him was that the sensations weren’t normal, or at least they varied from the standards of Akihiko-senpai and Mitsuru-senpai. That wasn’t distressing to him, since he was quite used to being unusual in the things he did. But it did lead into the next most logical question: why? Why him? Why now? Where did his talents come from? How was he connected to the Shadows, or was he just imagining it? Back when he joined SEES it was easy to dismiss the deeper meaning to having the abilities that he did. But not anymore. It was fast becoming obvious that there was a lot more going on, more to their activities than just killing parasites feeding on people. The problem was that, like his Personas, there was no clear answer. He was operating in the dark, and unlike Yukari, Minato didn’t think his senpai were keeping the answers to his questions from him.

When Akihiko-senpai murmured “C’mon. Let’s head back,” Minato didn’t disagree or argue in the least. He followed his senpai back to the dorm to get ready for school, and neither said another word.

 

* * *

 

When he awoke that night, there were two things he was aware of. The first was the scent of decay and the warped sense of wrongness all around him that told him he was in the Dark Hour. That alone would have struck him as odd – he was either fighting Shadows at this time, or was sleeping when he wasn’t – if he weren’t aware of the second thing.

That he wasn’t alone.

Swiftly, he pushed himself up and looked at the foot of his bed. There was the boy, his hands folded and head cocked curiously with that knowing little smile on his face. “Good evening,” Junior said to him in greeting.

“There’s not much good about this time of night,” Minato replied automatically, moving around under the covers until he was seated comfortably on the mattress. “Where have you been up to now?”

The boy walked along the bed, wordlessly prompting Minato to swing his legs out and stand to face him. Despite the height difference, there was no disparity between them. Minato didn’t feel the need to crouch or talk down to him, and the calm, expectant look he got in return told him that his height wasn’t an advantage here. “I’ve been busy,” Junior replied calmly. “Visiting people. Learning things. Watching you.”

“Me? Well, sorry kiddo, but I’m pretty boring as far as students go.”

Those pale eyes intensified as the boy shook his head. Minato felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, but couldn’t place where it was coming from. From the kid? No, that didn’t make sense. Junior wasn’t threatening or dangerous, not in those prison-convict pajamas. Shadows? He looked around, reaching out with his senses. Nothing. Even his Personas were quiet, a welcome change from how they’d been feeling before. It must be the Dark Hour, he decided. It always felt off. That was the only thing that made sense. When he turned back to the boy, his smile had grown. “I disagree,” he told the teen quietly. “I think you’re pretty interesting. You can do things lots of other people can’t, right?”

“How do you know about that?” It was a stupid question – he’d heard Junior’s voice when he summoned Orpheus, after all. And they only met during the Dark Hour, when normal people were safe in their coffins. So it only made sense that the kid would know things about what was going on.

“I know a lot about you,” Junior replied, folding his fingers together again. “Like I said, you’re an interesting person. And you’ve changed since we met. You seem lighter now. Brighter.”

Minato cocked his head to the side. “Brighter?” What does that mean?” Was the kid talking about his Personas? There was light and energy when they were released.

The boy frowned a little, like he was chasing a detail that refused to be said out loud. It was odd to see, Minato realized, considering the kid was more articulate than half the teachers he knew. “It’s hard to explain. It’s like it’s part of you now, but isn’t from you. And it’s still new.” Junior visibly pondered it, then shrugged and went back to smiling. “Oh well. It’ll come to me, and it’s interesting to see.”

“That’s… great to hear,” Minato replied, trying to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

“It really is,” the boy asserted before turning toward the door. “Well, it’s been fun, but you should get back to sleep.”

He had only gone a few steps before Minato’s mind kicked back into gear. “Wait a minute. I have something I need to ask you.” His tone wasn’t hard, but it had lost its conversational edge.

Junior turned back and looked at him expectantly, a smile in place and not a hint of caution or fear in his eyes. “Yes?”

“That contract you had me sign was part of all this, wasn’t it? The Shadows, my Personas, Tartarus.” The boy’s smile died down a little, but Minato kept pushing. “What’s going on here? How are you involved?”

“I’m not,” was the immediate response, this time in a steady, toneless voice. “I’m just here to help you. You’re the one that’s important here, Big Brother. I’m just here to… help when you need it.”

The last comment was what Minato’d been looking for, but his mind tripped over what Junior had said just before that. “W… wait a minute. What did you call me?”

“Big Brother.” Yep. He hadn’t heard it wrong. And it was hard to get his thoughts back in order between the Dark Hour throwing everything off kilter and the kid looking like giving out such a title was the most natural thing in the world.

“Why call me that? Don’t you have parents of your own? I mean, if you’re going to call me that, at least tell me your name.”

The boy frowned thoughtfully, his stare growing heavier and more intense with each passing moment until Minato felt it like a lead weight on his shoulders. “I… suppose you’re right. This won’t be the last time we meet, and you did ask for my name. In that case… I guess you can call me Pharos.” The stress he put on his name sent shivers down Minato’s spine, chilling him to the core even as his mind turned the word over, going through what Greek he could remember from the books he’d read since Akihiko-senpai had showed the group his Evoker. Pharos. The Greek word for ‘lighthouse.’ Something that stood out in the darkness for sailors to follow. A guide in the night. It was an odd name for a child who was obviously Japanese. “And I don’t have parents anymore,” the boy continued calmly. “They died, along with my sister.”

Minato blinked at that. Any normal child would have had some response to an event like that. Had he been too young to remember them? No, he singled out his sister, so they weren’t just names on a list to him. They’d been real people, completing a family with memories and a past. So why did Pharos sound so blasé about it? And why did those words, that the boy had lost his family, make him cold to the marrow? He couldn’t come up with any answers, but the boy’s story was a curious coincidence. “I see. I can relate, I suppose – my parents and sister died in a car crash when I was young too. If that’s the case, then what are you doing here?”

“Well, I don’t have a family anymore, so you’re like my older brother,” Pharos told him as though the answer were a natural fact. “But you’ve been asking all the questions so far, so now it’s my turn. What was your family like?”

Minato shrugged. Not at the question, since it was a logical place for the conversation to go, but because there wasn’t much to say on the matter. Same as when Yukari brought it up – it simply was. “They were… a family, I guess. My parents worked, and my sister was two years older than me, so we spent a lot of time together. Studying, playing, anything we could think of when our parents weren’t around. Minako was always joining groups and hanging out with her friends. And me, well, I tagged along when I could.”

Pharos gave a small smile. “It’s funny how your names are so close, but you said she was older than you, so you’re not twins.”

“Our parents weren’t very creative when it came to naming us,” Minato replied with a small, vacant smile. “They admitted it to anyone who pointed that fact out. But ‘Nako and I worked around it. Even had some fun with it at school.” Pharos’s smile became less open for a moment. Pensive, restrained, like he was thinking of how to word an observation and didn’t know how it would be received. “What is it?”

“It’s funny. You talk about your family, but you seem very distant about it. From the way you describe them, I get the feeling you weren’t close to them.”

Minato blinked, then backed up incrementally. He’d heard those words before, from the psychiatrists hired by the Kirijo Group and his regular social contacts. That he was detached from the event, from his family, and wasn’t connecting with the memories anymore. It had been one of the more vexing exercises they’d given him: to focus on his family and talk about them, happy or sad, for more than a few minutes. He’d tried back then. Several times. And when he’d been berated for not trying for the fourth time in a row, he’d left the room with a cold farewell and spoken to his contact in the Kirijo Group. That was the last meeting he’d ever had on the topic.

“But I’m like that too,” Pharos continued. “It’s just strange finding someone else like that. I remember the night they died the most, but not much before or after that. I don’t even remember the funeral. Is it like that with you?”

It should have been a red flag in his mind, but Minato wasn’t thinking of the mysteries of his past just then. Or the Shadows and Tartarus and his strange link to them both. Or even what Junior here might be, since they seemed to have a link that he couldn’t explain. Instead he was turning over a decade-old memory. And finding something wrong with it. “I guess what stands out the most for me is the blood, and the car wreck.” He frowned. There was more to it now, like a jigsaw puzzle with new pieces to choose from where there’d been none missing before. A sense beyond the wrongness of the Dark Hour. A smell past the blood and spilled gasoline. But was it right? It didn’t make sense. His family died in a car wreck, not an armed robbery or a mall shooting. Still, it was there, and the words slipped out of his mouth while he was thinking them. “And… gunpowder. I think.”

That seemed to shake Junior out of his pensive mood, and he smiled, differently from before, when he heard Minato’s last few words. “I see. Then I guess things will be getting interesting.”

“What does that mean?”

Pharos gave him a secretive little smile, and his eyes took on an unusual glow. Unusual enough to make Minato shiver in spite of himself, despite being in the Dark Hour and getting used to all the craziness making its home in Tatsumi Port Island. “I won’t spoil the surprise. But you’ll meet ‘her’ soon. And then… well, we’ll see.”

Before Minato could say anything else, there was a shift in the Dark Hour. Not its end, or an approaching Shadow. But the light from the moon outside his window died down, plunging the room into long, deep shadows. Shadows so deep that even Pharos’s eyes dimmed, his pale complexion clouded, and his odd choice of clothing being swallowed completely by the night.

All that remained of him was his voice. And even that felt like it was moving away. “So long, Big Brother. I’ll come back soon.”

Minato stepped back, trusting his other senses like he’d been taught. He wasn’t feeling threatened, however, and he knew what had happened even before his eyes adjusted to the gloom. The Dark Hour lightened a little, the wave of darkness passing like clouds before the moon, and showed him what he expected.

Whether he’d pulled the same trick as before, or used the door this time, or was never there in the first place, Pharos was gone.

 

* * *

 

It was several days later that SEES gathered in the foyer before dinnertime, discussing their newest lead. Yamagishi Fuuka. Her disappearance, her background, and the events surrounding her at school. Yukari brought up what gossip she’d heard on the subject, more animated than she’d been in a while, and Junpei’s conjecture was entertaining and entirely plausible, given how many other weird things they’d seen so far.

But there was something else on Minato’s mind now. Not his Personas, since they’d calmed down earlier that morning – something his two senpai had been very diligent in checking up on him for. And not Pharos and his odd past. But rather a tension, a thrill that hummed in his veins like a second pulse, different from his Personas and putting him on edge like he was about to fight, and it had been growing since Junior had visited him.

Mitsuru-senpai and Akihiko-senpai were going over the different possibilities surrounding Yamagishi, and what the odds were of her surviving in Tartarus very long given that she didn’t have any combat experience – after all, word around the block was that she tinkered with engines and radio transistors as a hobby. So unless she ran into a Shadow that had possessed a metalworks or a pickup truck, she’d be in trouble.

They’d just covered the details of Yamagishi’s past when Ikutsuki came down the stairs. Conversation stopped as the administrator approached Minato, stopping within arm’s reach. “I believe this belongs to you,” Ikutsuki told him soberly, bringing up the familiar wooden case that had carried Minato’s Evoker and presenting it to him with a staid sense of formality.

The teen bowed politely before placing it on the table and snapping the clasps open, lifting the lid to see his Evoker. Nothing about the form or structure of the gun had changed – it still had the left-handed grip and the iron sights. But it was the addition to the slide, the Greek script so delicately scribed into the metal, the solid feeling of being part of the group, that broke a slow smile across his face. He lifted the instrument gently, feeling his Personas curl and twist in response to their catalyst in his hands. He looked at both sides of the weapon, noticing that, like Akihiko-senpai’s, the script was different on each side. However, the script on Minato’s Evoker was shorter than that of his comrade’s. “What does it say?” he asked finally.

“Alea iacta est,” Ikutsuki replied simply.

Minato cocked his head in confusion since his self-education in Greek hadn’t been so extensive as to offer an immediate translation, but Mitsuru gave a quiet chuckle. “Translated by Suetonius and attributed to Julius Caesar, as I recall.”

Ikutsuki nodded. “That’s correct, Mitsuru-san. Well done.”

“It’s very fitting,” she replied, looking at Minato with an arched brow. “It means ‘Let the die be cast,’ a reference to how the dice are uncontrollable once they are thrown. It is a gambler’s saying, and it originated from the days when Caesar crossed the Rubicon and marched on Rome.”

Which began the reign of Julius Caesar and the rise of the powerhouse that was Ancient Rome, as Minato recalled from his history classes. It also signified passing the point of no return. Once thrown, the dice couldn’t be called back to the hand, and it wasn’t just dice that such a saying applied to. “Like the wild card in poker,” he deduced with a look of newfound respect. “Thank you, Ikutsuki-san. I appreciate the sentiment.”

“That is pretty awesome,” Junpei commented from the side, looking on expectantly. “So where’re ours?”

“Yours and Yukari-san’s haven’t been personalized yet,” Ikutsuki replied smoothly, adjusting his glasses. “It shouldn’t be long, however.”

Junpei frowned at that. “Guess it’s ‘cause you’re the leader, huh?” he mentioned to Minato without a trace of humour.

“Perhaps it just came more naturally,” Minato responded, spinning his Evoker around before placing it back on the table carefully. “I doubt Ikutsuki-san has a list of sayings like these just lying around.”

Junpei didn’t look convinced. He’d been like that, Minato noted, since Mitsuru had invited him to the Student Council. Was he… jealous? “Yeah. I guess,” Junpei grumbled to himself, looking away.

“Anyway,” Akihiko cut in, cracking his knuckles, “we have work to do. Might be a chance to put your Evoker to good use, and we’re not getting anything done sitting around here. The sooner we find out more about Yamagishi, and the sooner we get a handle on the Shadows, the better.”

Minato nodded, picking his Evoker up and looking at the others. “I agree. In that case, let’s get started.” His questions and concerns could wait, for now, and Junior’s odd comments about meeting women weren’t important. Right now SEES had an objective. It was time to achieve it.

 

* * *

 

“I take it you’ve heard the news?”

It was a meaningless question. Shirato Jin knew what happened in Tatsumi Port Island before their most fervent news reporters did. Still, Jin turned and faced him, the light of his computer screen reflecting off his glasses. “Three more students have been reported missing,” he replied. “Better than we could’ve hoped.”

Pale lips spread in a smile, slow and wide like rigor mortis. “And the girl?”

“Missing for now. No one knows where she is. Might be she’s still alive if they left her in that place.”

“A triviality now. She is unimportant.”

Jin shook his head, his eyes narrowing with a dark fire behind them. “She was unimportant, but not anymore. Turns out that she might be bait for the Shadow killers.”

Ahhh, yes. Them. The topic was something Jin had devoted his energy to since hearing about it. An empty passenger train crashing into the rail yard would have been useful for making people talk, he’d said, but the authorities at the scrap yard were confused by the extensive internal damage that couldn’t be accounted for, not to mention how the train had gotten to where they’d found it when there was no records of the access codes being used to start the engine. Black ‘tar’ in corners and on the walls, scorch marks from something incredibly hot, and markings in some places that looked like scrapes from a blade. None of it had been reported on the news, but the clues had caught Jin’s attention like a starving dog going after a bone. “Are you still thinking about the train incident?”

Jin brushed past the inquiry and got to what was obviously on his mind. “I think I have something. Yamagishi’s disappearance has gotten the school student authorities sniffing around. By itself, it means nothing. But a few names have been popping up recently, and it’s not a coincidence.”

Coincidence or design, it didn’t matter. Humans would attribute meaning to anything they didn’t understand. It was… such a charming quality of theirs. Still, Jin didn’t fixate on meaningless details. “Continue.”

“I’ve been looking into anything unusual that might explain the strange incidents, and it seems the Kirijo have been more active than before.” Jin didn’t bother to hold back the hostility in his voice as he said the company’s name. “More requests for student residency in Iwatodai have been filed, right around the time the first Shadow disappeared. Also, there’s been a development on the site, and the timing’s too close to be a fluke. Seems there’s a new student in town, and he’s pissed off a few of the locals. Enough that they’ve all mentioned him to us.” At the responding nod, he continued. “He’s on the same thread as Takeba Yukari, so it seems like the idiots who hate him are fans of hers. Their grudges aren’t anything new, but this guy is – Arisato Minato.”

Ahhh, the Kirijo. It was only a matter of time before they got involved again. A thoughtful frown crossed his lips when he heard the student’s name, however. Arisato… “Who is he? How does he fit in with Takeba and the Kirijo?”

Jin shook his head and gestured to the screen, looking both irritated and curious. “Aside from being a new student, he’s a ghost. No past records on the public networks, a few rumours from where he might have attended middle school, and an obituary of a family with the same last name ten years ago. But here’s what’s interesting.” Jin’s fingers flew across his keyboard, tapping keys and commands like raindrops on pavement. A new screen opened, and a photo of an unfamiliar face popped up. “Seems he’s living in the same dorm as their chairman’s kid, and he’s apparently hanging around her and Sanada a lot. And his arrival corresponds with one of those residency transfer requests they made.”

“Intriguing.”

“The Shadow that attacked the Kirijo dorm went silent the same week he arrived,” Jin pointed out. “And the train incident was left alone, like it was just an accident. It’s not like the Kirijo to leave evidence uncovered, unless they know it can’t be traced back to them. They haven’t made a move since Aragaki ditched them – they haven’t had the people or the talent. But this Arisato shows up and two Shadows are killed right after. And they have more people in the dorm that the brat lives in, so it could be they have more Persona-Users than before. Put those pieces together, and things start to make a lot more sense.”

Sakaki Takaya looked at the picture, feeling a deep-seated tremble stir in his soul. It wasn’t fear, but anticipation. Something about this student, his blue hair or guarded eyes or lax posture in the photo, made Hypnos take notice. Jin was right. It wasn’t a coincidence. Events were moving forward, and this Arisato was part of them. What role did he play? Why was he important? Why now? So many question, and Takaya felt it spark his interest like so little could now.

“Find out what you can about him, and the Kirijo’s movements,” he told Jin unnecessarily. “It seems there are new players on the board. And it wouldn’t do to let them parade about recklessly.”

Jin nodded and turned to his computer, already typing away. Takaya stared at Arisato a moment longer. The poise. The eyes. This was no mere pawn they were looking at.

Yes. This one would prove very interesting.


	4. Derobement

If there was anything that her parents had taught her, it was that aspirations only led to heartbreak and disappointment. It was fine to have goals and do well, they’d said, but trying to be more than she was could only end in disappointment. The higher one climbed, the further they fell, and no one would be there to catch her, no matter their open arms and warm smiles at first. She hadn’t been in that position personally, since she’d never been an A student or the captain of the swim team, but her parents had taught her the lesson so well that it became easier to hide behind her words, or lack thereof, than to speak up and prove them wrong. So that was what she did, no matter how much a part of her protested every time she shrank from the attention of her peers. Never mind that she felt like she could help people sometimes, or that her personal escape quickly became a passion she could take pride in. It was easier to be like the electricity that powered her gadgets and take the path of least resistance.

After believing that for so long, it was strange how the events outside her control, driven, it seemed, by fortunate chance, could change so much about her in so little time. Strange was indeed a good word for this new life in her heart, like sunglasses she never knew she was wearing were taken off and was seeing the world and its wonderful colours for the first time, without having to shy away or apologize for doing so. It was exhilarating, eye-opening and deeply invigorating. Since that night, she felt more like herself and less like she had to hide from ridicule or scorn. No matter her habits, the others had quickly said, she was fine the way she was. She felt like a new person when she was around them.

Yamagishi Fuuka chuckled to herself as she ran her fingertips across the pile of books she’d assembled, safe from the sun under the canopy outside her new favorite bookstore, Bookworms. Right. She’d changed so much that, on such a clear, beautiful day, with new friends and great dorm mates who’d welcomed her without thinking twice about it even after they’d saved her life, she decided to go for a walk, stretch her legs, and head to a bookstore for some new reading material. Sure, she felt stronger than she had before that night, but she was still her, and that wasn’t likely to change anytime soon.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t indulge in something she enjoyed, she told herself while adding another book to the pile in front of her. She enjoyed learning and the new ideas she got from books, regardless of whether those ideas were applicable in real life. As she straightened the pile out, she began to think of her dorm mates and how into books they were. Mitsuru-senpai seemed like the sort who read a lot, given how advanced her studies were. And Ikutsuki-san certainly fit the image of a well-educated teacher, though she couldn’t speak to the man’s sense of humour. Junpei-kun didn’t seem like he read much, preferring video games instead, and it felt like Yukari-san would be busy with her archery club activities or socializing to read much outside of studying for exams. And Akihiko-senpai was known to be an overachiever in academics and in the boxing ring – even she’d heard about that. So that left–

“Hm. Interesting choices.”

She gasped and backpedalled and turned and raised her hand to her chest all at once. In her rush to identify the speaker, so close she clipped an arm as she moved, she lost her balance and slipped backwards.

She was certain she would crash into the table next to her and cause a horrible mess. Or wind up on the ground with a bruise to her pride and her backside. But a slim hand wrapped around her upraised arm, stopping her from slipping back. Her weight twisted from the change in her momentum and she reached blindly to the side, catching the edge of the table. It was enough to stop her. Not enough to completely spare her – there was no doubt in her mind that she looked ridiculous – but she was still standing, however awkwardly, and the books she’d been looking at were untouched.

“Sorry about that.” She finally looked up to see who had startled her in the first place. A familiar eye stared at her, the other half of his gaze hidden behind a curtain of indigo hair. Minato-kun. Despite how startled she’d been, and how close she might’ve been to crashing into him, he looked as steady and calm as ever, something she’d learned was as much a staple of his character as Akihiko-senpai’s strict exercise regimens were part of his. Minato-kun smiled apologetically as he helped steady her. “I thought you heard me before.”

Fuuka shook her head as she righted herself, and once she was completely on her feet again, he pulled his hand back. Her arm should have been sore, considering how much of her weight he’d held up by it in that moment, but she barely felt a thing. It seemed that he preferred a deft touch instead of raw strength, and that made sense; she’d seen him fight, after all. She rubbed at it anyway and tried to steady her racing heart. “No, no. It’s not your fault. I was spacing out.”

She stayed to one side of him, watching the revealed side of his face. It was easier to talk to him when she could see his eye and expressions instead of that veil of hair that divided his face between ‘incrementally expressive’ and ‘completely blank.’ “Still, I apologize for that,” he continued. “I’ve been told that I walk too quietly around people. It’s a habit I have.”

“From your kendo training and fencing practice?” Fuuka suggested. She’d heard the story from Junpei-kun during the meeting that made her a part of SEES, and she knew a few students who practiced swordsmanship. They moved quietly too, no matter how large they were – it had something to do with them always being balanced on their feet. That Minato-kun was the same came as no surprise to her, and, even without the training, he would probably still walk softly. He didn’t seem the sort to make noise unnecessarily.

“I imagine so,” he confirmed, relaxing a little and pocketing his hands as the conversation grew comfortable. “It’s hard to imagine not doing it, actually.” He turned a little and nodded toward her pile of books. “Anyway, I’m glad you weren’t hurt. Did you need any help with those? What’s your pet genre?”

It took her a moment to register his questions, so far from her expectations as they were. Yukari-san had said that Minato-kun was hard to get to know because he so rarely revealed anything about himself, and she’d quickly agreed with that assessment in the short time she’d known the students of the Iwatodai Dormitory. Compared to Junpei-kun, Minato-kun was a concrete wall. But here he was, asking simple questions and talking more in a few minutes than in the whole time she’d seen him around school or the dorm. And about something simple, domestic, like carrying her books. It was throwing her off balance, but the change was welcome. She enjoyed a good mystery, and passing up a chance to learn about the resident ghost wasn’t an option. “I like science fiction,” she told him finally, choosing her words carefully. “The technology they use, the descriptions, the chance to leave Earth and travel the stars, it all sounds so wonderful.”

He nodded in understanding, then his eye narrowed a little. “It certainly does. Stretching the boundaries and thinking outside the box. It’s good brain exercise. That said, I hope your interests don’t become escapism. It’s none of my business, but I know that’s an approach that doesn’t work.”

She was silent for a moment, surprised and impressed and a little off-centre from his insight. Then she gave a small sigh, wilting a bit. It only made sense that he’d make such an observation – no one at the dorm had what she could call a happy background. “I used to. I’m trying not to anymore.”

The piercing look to his eyes faded and he nodded, lips twitching into the beginnings of a smile. “That’s good. And it’s nothing to be ashamed of if you’re learning from the experience. But if you do have bad days, let one of us know. I’m sure Yukari or Mitsuru-senpai would be able to help you out. You’re part of the team, and if you have any concerns, we’ll work through them. That’s what we’re here for.”

She paused before replying again, unsure what to make of the normally-reticent Minato-kun offering such straightforward encouragement. He’d said ‘we,’ not ‘the others,’ and the difference was hard to ignore as her mental diagram of him blurred and shifted, changing again. When they’d met in Tartarus, he was all business. Calm, steady, so focused that he came across as cold. She knew how hard he was to figure out from the other students – even she’d heard the rumours about him. But seeing him so cordial was an unexpected surprise. Then her eyes widened a little. Was that it? Was he changing, or at least showing her a different side of himself for her sake? She frowned as she thought it over and worked out a reply.“I see. Thank you for the advice.”

Something in her tone must have clued him into her unease, because he looked at her and stared intently, trying to discern the source of her nervousness. “Did I say something? Is there a problem?”

Fuuka refrained from backing up, because while she felt that he wouldn’t do something to make her uncomfortable, she also knew that he’d see through her like a crystal glass given enough time. So she went on the offensive this time. “Are you always this open with others? I got the impression that you didn’t talk very much, to be honest. So I have to wonder if you’re here to keep morale up or to check in on me.”

He blinked at her, his face expressionless past his too-long bangs, before he leaned back half a step and closed his eyes with a knowing ‘hm.’ “No, nothing like that. I mean, I am curious as to how well you’re fitting in given how weird all this must be. But I don’t want to give the impression that I’m spying on you. And I suppose I’m not this chatty normally, but it’s easy to talk to you – you remind me of my sister.”

She blinked at him. That was unexpected. “I do? How? I didn’t know you had a sister.”

He gave a small shrug, face and voice as steady as thought they were discussing incremental stock changes. Or all the ways to properly paint a wall. “I don’t anymore. She died with my parents in an auto wreck ten years ago. But you and her have a few things in common, now that I think about it. I guess that’s why it feels natural to talk to you.”

The casual, matter-of-fact way he said it made her shiver a little. Even someone who’d come to terms with such a tragedy wouldn’t sound so calm about it, and the contrast between his level tone and the almost fond words he was using when speaking of his sibling knocked her insides around.

This time he seemed blind to her discomfort, and continued speaking unabated. “Anyway, you’re part of the team now, and we all look out for each other. For the most part. If you have any problems at school again, let me know. Or Yukari or our senpai. One of us will help you out.”

She pushed out a smile, genuinely touched while trying to quell her unease. “That’s very generous.”

“It makes tactical sense. You don’t have the reputation that our senpai do, and the others might not have the time to help you out with the students. I mean, Akihiko-senpai ignores most of them, and Yukari’s the most popular girl in the school. I don’t think they can relate to being bothered by the students like we can.” That inquisitive look arose in his eye again, and he cocked his head to the side curiously. “Have you had any problems talking to our senpai at school? On account of their fans, I mean. Some of them are a bit zealous on that front.”

Fuuka scratched the side of her neck, not wanting to fold to his questions so easily. “Well… I think some of them don’t like that I’m in your dorm now. They seem protective of Yukari-san and Mitsuru-senpai. It makes sense, I think, given how popular they are, but it does make it hard to get past them sometimes.”

He gave a shrug. “I think that’s natural. My other schools always had idols and groupies, so Gekkoukan is nothing new. But if they give you any problems, just send them my way. Say I’m asking you to follow Yukari and Mitsuru-senpai around and take notes on what they do since you’re a girl or something like that.”

Though that was a handy excuse, Fuuka immediately saw that such a statement would put him at the heart of any conflicts that arose regarding their senpai. And much as skilled a fighter as Minato-kun was, she wasn’t sure how he would deal with something that couldn’t be solved with a Persona and a yard of sharp steel. “Are you sure? There seem to be quite a few of them, so don’t they worry you?”

Minato-kun barely blinked before responding. “Not really. Numbers are a technicality in their case. And they hate me anyway, so they’ll buy that excuse.”

The casual detachment to his voice silenced her thoughts for a moment. It was comforting that he was confident in his abilities to handle such a situation, and his offer to take on her burden was actually a bit charming. But the cool tone he used went beyond being confident – it was so plainly delivered, so calmly worded despite the potential danger he’d be putting himself in, that it sent a small chill up her spine.

She collected her books, paid for them with Minato-kun at her shoulder, and headed back to the dorm with him at her side. She’d only made it a few steps before he stopped her and took the books under his arm, giving her protests a calm, blank stare. They walked slowly, talking about SEES and their Personas while the breeze picked up and kept the heat bearable. As they went, Fuuka tried to study him, to get around his façade, and was surprised by how little she could pick up from him in spite of how open and helpful he was. Even as they walked back and he talked about the letters he’d gotten from the students in his class, she couldn’t read him. His half-concealed face, pale eyes and smooth, level voice were remarkably well-suited to showing her absolutely nothing. So much so that she wasn’t sure even Lucia could help her.

Either he didn’t notice her looking at him, or ignored it. By the time they returned to the dorm, they’d just finished talking about the different clubs in Gekkoukan and what he might be interested in joining outside of the Student Council. On that note, he’d told her, he needed to see Mitsuru-senpai about their meeting the next day, so she took her books back and bowed politely to him. “Thank you again, Minato-kun. It was nice talking about, well, everything that’s happened.”

He nodded, his lips twitching upwards a fraction of an inch into an almost-smile. “Likewise. If you have any other questions, let me know.”

“Thank you. I will.”

It wasn’t until she was back in her room, with cut wires and grease jars loading down her desk and mechanical apparatuses all over the floor, that she realized that he’d never told her how she was similar to his sister. She couldn’t help but wonder what sort of person Minato-kun would have as a sibling, whether they played together or spent their time indoors and read books. Or what sorts of friends they had. But the thought brought his calm offer of protection back to her mind, and that low, steady tone, unwavering even as he talked about his sister’s death, sent that strange shiver up her spine again.

 

* * *

 

Of all the roles Minato had ever filled in his life, from student to orphan to specialized Shadow exterminator, he’d never really had a job he could call ‘normal.’ His school days were spent working on his studies, which was normal for a student, but ‘student’ didn’t classify as a job. His lunch breaks tended to involve his classmates pestering him about things he had no reason to know, and their reasoning was that… well, he looked different from everyone else, so why wouldn’t he have the answers? So, in spite of being as warm as a supermarket meat freezer, he was still bombarded with the crushes and break-ups and rivalries and crying fits and questions about Yukari and Mitsuru-senpai’s dimensions, or Akihiko-senpai’s running routes, and that was before the weird questions came up. And perhaps those were ‘normal,’ but no one was paying him for it. And spending his evenings fighting monsters that screamed like burning banshees and bled tar and sticky goop that kept their specialized dry-cleaner richer than an American fast-food chain couldn’t be mentioned in the same city block as ‘normal.’

As he was settling into his place as Mitsuru-senpai’s new secretary, however, he felt that he could make a fairly firm conclusion: That even this job, limited to taking notes and forwarding memos and being her shadow, utterly refused to lay off the crazy.

The first hurdle to contend with was Fushimi-san, the Treasurer. Passing on the Student Council’s finances and having records for the members who couldn’t attend was important. That needed no explanation. But it was an inordinately challenging task to accomplish when the girl froze up and cringed whenever he came within four seats of her. Getting a look at the finance records involved leaving them on the table and moving away so he could approach without scaring the poor girl. Gods only knew what he’d done to frighten her this much. He was sure even the most cowardly Shadow in Tartarus wouldn’t be this timid around him. He’d tried just calling to her from across the room, but she’d jerked and shuddered so many times that he was afraid she’d fall out of her chair and snap an arm if he kept it up. Even her passing on simple records and notes was becoming a problem, so he’d sat down and, tactician and leader that he was, given the matter deep contemplation for thirty-eight seconds before asking Saejima-san, the VP, for help.

Saejima-san was a girl as well, absent when he’d been introduced before, so it shouldn’t have been a problem. And it hadn’t been. Saejima-san had been understanding and helpful, if a bit dubious about how closely he was working with Mitsuru-senpai, and had agreed to be the go-between for him and Fushimi.

Which wouldn’t have been a problem if he could actually read the girl’s writing.

Saejima-san’s notes and diction were, without a doubt, perfect. She assured him of that herself. The problem lay in that the characters looked nothing like what she told him they said. Rather than cursive, flowing Japanese, he felt like he was reading the words in Sanskrit and Russian written over top of each other, then reversed, flipped around, and scribbled onto the page with a straw. And it was particularly aggravating because Minato was no stranger to shorthand writing. He’d utilized it in his notes for so long that classmates at his past schools had placed bets and staged competitions to see who could guess what the symbols meant and where they came from during especially boring lunch hours. But what Saejima-san called ‘writing’ defied all Earthly attempts of translation – it was impossible to read no matter what he tried.

When he mentioned it to Yukari, she’d told him that the VP scored high marks in all her subjects, but that no one ever asked for her notes to study from. A local mystery that now made perfect sense.

That issue would have been a challenge by itself if Hidetoshi weren’t on the war path. Minato’s ‘flower problem,’ as it had become known around the class, had been consuming the head disciplinarian’s attention until he found a cigarette butt in the men’s washroom. And Minato had been glad for the diversion from his own affairs, but there was no way Hidetoshi’s blood pressure was within even ‘high’ margins now – his focus bordered on obsessive. His questions became interrogations and his investigation methods rivalled that of a rookie detective with an axe to grind. No one was above suspicion (except Akihiko-senpai, who’d given him a long, cold stare when asked before pummelling his sparring partner into the mat), and it made getting help from a male perspective particularly difficult.

And Minato had been supportive of the motive behind Hidetoshi’s crusade, though not his methods, but that didn’t last beyond him asking if it was just a cigarette, or if it had been laced with something harder and whether there were more like it around. Him raising the possibility immediately made him a suspect, and it had taken several days to assure the diligent student that it had been a suggestion, not an admission of guilt. Having classmates who would gladly throw each other under the bus out of petty spite only made things worse. Even without Hidetoshi’s dogged persistence, the matter was being treated like a spectacle. With it, the matter became a circus act, and the lead performer was the only one not in on the joke.

Once Minato was off Hidetoshi’s list, he quietly distanced himself from the disciplinarian and worked on his own responsibilities. Which brought him to a new problem with having a role in a group that was situated in a specific room all the time:

Everyone knew where to find him.

The people who told him their life stories and dreams in life without prompting. The ones who begged to know what Yukari wore to bed (Mitsuru-senpai had been a topic of discussion along those lines as well, but none were stupid enough to bring it up where she might hear). The occasional jilted senior who used him for a sound board for half an hour before leaving in a huff and a ‘You’re no help’ when he told them where the school therapist’s office was. Along with all the relatively normal students with their crazy requests and ideas. They all knew where he was during club activities, and none were shy about capitalizing on it.

That included the ‘protectors’ of Akihiko-senpai and Mitsuru-senpai and Yukari who felt that Minato’s ticket still needed to be punched.

They’d pop in to see him, inquire about what he was doing and try to make small talk. And stare at him when he did his work, regardless of how often he pointed out that it was impolite to do so. Even when asked, they were ‘just in the area’ and ‘wanted to know how he was fitting in.’

It was formulaic, very restrained, and incredibly obvious. They were looking for weaknesses. They wanted to get the drop on him. And the thought of them finally trying something so he didn’t have to live with the drama they brought in with them made his sword-arm itch. But because he wanted to make a strong showing of maturity in front of his senpai, he bore it all with a calm smile and a (mostly) restrained mouth. No matter how much his Personas raged under the surface.

“How did you get this job, Arisato?”

“Mitsuru-senpai made the offer, and I accepted it. Simple as that.”

“Hm. You don’t seem to do much. Any idea why she chose you?”

Minato looked up from his stack of forms and gave them a long stare before breaking into a restrained smile. “Haven’t a clue. Maybe she wanted someone who would help her and do some work instead of drool all over her boots and throw their back out trying to impress her. Those boots are expensive, so it makes sense if buckets of spit would be bad for the leather.”

That got him some cold looks and a distinctly unfriendly smile. “That’s cute, Arisato.”

Minato perked up and leaned forward with wide eyes, brushing at his hair. “You think so? I hope so – that’s what I aim for when I leave my room every day. I have to make sure I’m not too cute though, because the girls might start picking on me if I give them a run for their money.” Then he put on a look of suspicion and a knowing smile, raising his voice into an airy falsetto. “Wait, is that why you’re in here all the time? Because I’m pretty?” They looked shocked, either pale or red at his words, and her fluttered his eyelashes as fast as he could. “I’m flattered, but the girls might get jealous if you spend all your time in here. They’ll think I’m monopolizing your time, and then I’ll really get it.” The two in the back were shivering in rage and had to be kept back by the restraining arms of the others while the chilling smile became a tightly-clenched jaw more akin to an animal’s snarl. “Am I wrong? Why else would you be here all the time?”

They backed away, had a short, terse murmured discussion among themselves, then came back to his table, more composed and bordering on openly friendly. “Well, we were wondering if you were up for joining another club. You’ve fit in with the Student Council pretty nicely, so how about the kendo team? You seem like you’re in good shape, what with you practicing with Akihiko-senpai and all.” There was no mistaking the naked venom in those eyes. “And I’ve heard it’s a good way to blow off stress, you know? I mean, this rivalry’s getting pretty silly. We can have a few rounds in the ring, get any bad feelings out, and move on. What do you say?”

Minato bit his tongue for a moment and took a few seconds to compose his answer. “Sorry, but I’m not very good at kendo. I keep crossing my feet over and tripping up.”

They looked a bit puzzled, but there were also a few beatific smiles among the group. “That’s strange. I thought Junpei said you were pretty good at kendo. Something about you showing up the guys at your last school.”

“Nah, not really. I mean, ‘good’ is pretty subjective, right? And they weren’t very good. I’ve practiced in school, fought in the odd contest. Never really got anywhere.” Technically that was true. He’d dropped out of the club before he started rising through the ranks and making a name for himself. It beat checking his bedding for snakes and poisoned tacks every night.

“So you don’t know how to fight with swords?” one of the students in the back asked.

He shrugged. “Well, I’ve seen a few Zaitochi movies. And Kurosawa Akira’s Seven Samurai. I’m not sure if that counts, though.”

Another student spoke up. “I see. Well, why don’t you stop by the kendo ring in a few days? We’re watching a few matches there, so we can work this thing out. It’s just a misunderstanding, after all.”

Minato glanced at them, looking mildly interested, then went back to his paperwork. “Sure, if you want. Won’t take too long, right?”

“It shouldn’t. Thanks, Arisato – it’ll be good to put it all behind us.”

“I agree. But I should get back to work. I’ll see you guys later, right?”

“Looking forward to it.” The spokesman stepped back and joined the others. They seemed to be in good spirits as they left if their wide grins were any indication, and Minato waited until they were around the corner before breaking into a slow smile that would have impressed the Jolly Roger.

Suckers.

 

* * *

 

Much as Minato wanted to capitalize on Mitsuru-senpai’s attention and really grind the gears of his fellow students, the simple reality was that she was a busy person. Even with him looking after more and more of her Student Council matters and serving as an assistant whenever he could, there was always more work ready to take its place. Being able to walk part of the way back to the dorm with her was always calming, but she usually had other plans and would leave before he could ask her to join him for a cup of coffee or to walk around the mall and window shop, or something else completely domestic and totally normal that he’d never thought of before. Especially not with a girl he was starting to think that he liked.

And that was a strange thought for him, he realized as he switched his shoes after class. He’d never really liked a girl before, a fact that had made him the butt of countless jokes when he’d been stupid enough to mention it once. But the girls his age just never did anything for him. They were loud, clingy and emotional, usually talked forever about shoes and their nails and how they were getting fat despite a new diet, and seemed to lack any self-awareness. He’d stopped counting how many times he’d told the girls around him to find better friends of the ones they had were borrowing money, missing dates, and stealing their boyfriends. It never worked.

But it wasn’t to say he didn’t have female friends. Saejima in the Student Council was warming up to him and found his sense of humour hilarious. Yuka on the school running team said she liked his down-to-Earth personality. Yukari, though he’d be hesitant to call her a friend, was easy to talk to when it came to business and matters at the dorm. And Fuuka was spending more of her free time around him, talking about machinery and books. Minato’s mother had been an engineer, so the topics were simple to discuss. All in all, he got along with the girls around him just fine.

But Mitsuru-senpai was different. What she was like posed no challenge to him. He’d grown up around the Kirijo, after all, and could see their influence on her, from her poise and insight to her determination and leadership. Or perhaps she perfectly embodied those qualities that the Kirijo were founded on. Either way, she was wealthy, smart, classy, and would have stared a melting glacier into frozen submission before she ever took ‘no’ for an answer.

It was everything else about her that he couldn’t understand. She looked out for the students in the dorm like they were under her care. He’d thought it was a superiority thing, or a show of how she could look after her pets to prove her responsibility, but those notions died within days of their first conversation. No, she looked after them because she cared. Because in spite of her being their boss, she saw them as people instead of assets. It showed in how she talked to them, regardless of Yukari’s attitude. He didn’t know how she juggled her work life and her social responsibilities and still came across as a person, but she did it flawlessly.

And there was the side of her that he never would have expected. The side he kept to himself every time his classmates asked. The part of her that fought like a devil and rode motorcycles in skin-tight leather. Or that handled swords like a champion and could blow an entire hallway clean of Shadows with a smile that showed those delicate teeth and fine lips while the walls smoked around her. Reserve and decorum, first and foremost, but a wild tide underneath that swept away anything that stood against her.

He sighed as he passed through the doors. She was intriguing, and he felt welcome around her. She was a leader, a hellion with her Persona, and loved swords even more than he did. Add to that the fact that she was smart, confident, classy, and smelled really, really good, and he could admit to himself that he did indeed like her like no other girl he’d known before. But that was a problem by itself. After all, he had no idea where he stood with her, how to approach a conversation that didn’t involve advanced algebra or Evoker maintenance, and didn’t know if she was even available. The Kirijo were old money, so they probably had a traditional approach to the children of the company heads, and Minato didn’t even know if Akihiko-senpai was part of that equation or not.

So many questions, so many reasons to stay back, and yet there was a tug in him, an anchor resting next to his heart, that was pulling him along. And regardless of him knowing how or why, or even whether it was a good idea, he knew that he’d follow her until he had some answers. And that left him rubbing his eyes, confused on what he should do.

Then the felt a cold, familiar stab of pain behind his ears, and thoughts of girls in leather atop motorcycles fled his mind as he began to sweat. It began in a tingle and spread around his eyes. Needling. Prickling. He left the school grounds and headed down the streets at a brisk pace and tried to keep his head still, fending off the approaching pain. He’d just reached the dorm’s front doors when the backs of his eyes felt like a blade was being jammed into them. Giving a cursory greeting to Junpei and Akihiko-senpai in the front foyer, he took the stairs three at a time, one destination in mind. The pain subsided by the time he got to his door, but it gave rise to a familiar feeling, one that he pushed down as best he could. Just a bit further.

Once he was inside, surrounded by shelves and desks and papers and electronics wires, he quietly walked over to his music station and turned it on, letting the small but modest speakers fill the air with booming bass and growling lyrics and European metal, thrumming against his sternum and giving him something to focus on. When Junpei had visited shortly after they were both settled in, he’d been surprised by Minato’s choice in music and how loud he liked it. “It’s for my linguistics class,” he’d told his teammate. “The lyrics help with my composition and sentence structure.” Junpei had looked at him like he’d said Akihiko-senpai had taken up line-dancing in his spare time. Unlike his classmates, though, they weren’t put off by dry humour and a cold shoulder. No matter what jokes he brought up or which deflections came to mind, he couldn’t ignore them when they wanted to be heard. Nor the state of his own soul and the inhabitants who now shared that space.

His Personas were getting aggravating, and attempts to push them away were like climbing up greased rope. He’d turned them loose against the Shadows during their last visit to Tartarus, then worked on merging their power, trying to exhaust them enough that the noise would stop. It didn’t matter; they were still there, humming and buzzing under the surface like a stripped power line. No matter how easy controlling them seemed, they were always restless. Almost agitated. And the only time the feeling subsided was when he was fighting in Tartarus or running with Akihiko-senpai, too focused on what was going on around him and where he was setting his feet to let the feeling get to him. In the silence of normalcy, with no threat of Shadows or concrete to deal with, they were a constant distraction. His music was only a temporary reprieve, and he couldn’t play it as loud as he wanted to without being evicted. It would need to be that loud, too, because his Personas were itching around his eardrums even now, mocking his efforts to drown them out.

Even the strange pair from the Velvet Room were at a loss as to what his problem was. Minato gave a soft snort at the memory. Well, Elizabeth seemed perplexed. Igor was fascinated by how many Personas he had shuffled away in his mind, and seemed far more interested in ‘the implications’ than in Minato’s repeated questions. In the end, he’d left with some focusing exercises and Elizabeth’s parting request to see the outside world. He couldn’t blame her for that, really – if he were stuck in the same room with Igor for however long she’d been there, he’d be climbing the walls too.

He let out a long, steady breath before turning up his music a bit more. Then perched on the edge of the desk, rests his hands at his sides, and let his mind drift on the currents of piano chords and screaming guitar riffs and high operatic lyrics. His Personas followed him, taunting and needling itch with the need to turn them loose. But this time he didn’t push them away. He didn’t fight against them. Or shove them down. Or let them pull him one way or the other. He let the music wash over him, then felt them move around him.

Like fluid. Be as water.

The effect was gradual, but it worked well. At first they kept pushing against him, but he fought the itch to kick back. Soon they seemed lost, like they couldn’t find him. Instead of pressing into his skin, they brushed against his mind like tadpoles, looking for what had been fighting back so much lately. He stilled the impulse to smile, not wanting to give himself away.

No resistance. No force. Flow from one breath, one thought, into the next.

They drifted around his mind like fish in the current. Searching, but going with the flow until they had a target. They felt almost docile, so much so it was hard to believe they’d been fighting him as much as they had. He let himself relax a little, finally free of the nagging sensation. It was temporary, and he knew that, but he’d take it however he could. And he let himself sink into that feeling. Deeper. Further. And further still. His fluid consciousness seeped into the cracks of his soul. He let his serenity slip and indulged in a moment of pride and triumph. Maybe this was it, and the old man’s ramblings had been on the mark. Perhaps this was how he controlled his Personas, by letting go of his control instead of damming them up until they broke free. He floated there, bobbing in the sea of semi-consciousness and heavy bass and letting his Personas swirl around him. After fighting them for so long, not having to was a welcome relief.

He had no idea how long it was, ten minutes or two hours, when a stray current came to his attention. His consciousness stirred in response, and he turned his attention toward it. Wrapping calm Zen and heavy metal around him like a steel coat, he reached for it slowly so he wouldn’t disturb his Personas. But when he moved for it, whatever it was, all he caught was echoes and fog. He tried again, and the presence, faint as wind chimes across a busy street, receded even further. His focus wavered as he frowned – it was gone now. Like it was doing to him what he just did to his Personas.

As though thinking the word woke them up, they stirred and flowed against him, more insistent as his consciousness arose and returned to the real world. His eyes slid open slowly, steadying against the vertigo from meditating while standing. Then his nerves prickled as his Personas returned, albeit more subdued than before. Minato took a bracing breath and shut his music off, mentally preparing for dinner and his homework – his watch showed him he’d been at it for almost an hour.

But as he rubbed his face with both hands, his mind went back to that elusive feeling that nudged him out of his calm. It was strange how faint it felt, but then it evaporated when he tried to reach for it like it wasn’t even there. He had nothing else to go on, but the faintest touch he got of it told him that it was foreign and new, which was an unusual feeling for him. He’d drawn on his Personas countless times now, and it never felt out of place. He’d fused them and found them and figured out all he could. But that feeling… it wasn’t from his Personas. Nothing else came to mind, considering how brief the feeling was. Much as he wanted to brush it off, his instincts told him not to. It had been there, been real if only for a second. And whatever it was, it felt like it came from somewhere different than his Personas.

Someplace… deeper.

 

* * *

 

“Go back a minute. What do you mean ‘deeper’?” Akihiko-senpai asked two days later while they were jogging across Port Island.

“It feels like it’s coming from somewhere I can’t get to. Like water pressure when you go diving, but if it stopped you instead of just getting tighter.” Minato stopped at the train station and rested against the railing, taking swigs of water and wiping the sweat from his brow. “I guess that means you’ve never heard of that or felt the same way before.”

Akihiko-senpai looked troubled as he leaned against the rail, barely a foot away. He drank from his own water bottle before answering. “I’ve never heard of there being anything ‘deeper’ than a Persona. Polydeuces is deep enough for me, and I think Mitsuru’s the same. I’ve never felt anything deeper than that.”

Minato sighed. “So we’re in the dark again.”

“It seems so, and I wish we had more answers for you. It’s tough when you’re the first to do something, especially when it goes against the grain as much as it does. I mean, do you have any idea why you can go deeper than your Personas?”

The thought made the younger man pause in thought. He’d been thinking of it and coming up with nothing, but their run had gotten the juices flowing, and he started at the beginning of the thought stream. “Well, if I have more than one of them, then it make sense that I’d need the space for them, right?”

His senpai looked at him for a moment before giving a shrug. “That’s an odd approach to take considering what they are, but go ahead. It makes some sense.”

Minato stayed silent, his mind running twice as fast as he had ten minutes before. “What if me finding them or fusing them isn’t an external thing, but just pulling them out of a place that’s already there? A place like that would have to be huge. Which means that it would be deep to accommodate the others so they have a place to be.” Akihiko-senpai looked dubious, and Minato shrugged in response. “I don’t know. That idea seems weak to me too, but it’s the best I can do right now.”

“Is that what it feels like? That you’re finding them inside yourself? Because that would make sense, as much as anything about our Personas does, if that were the case.” Akihiko-senpai mulled it over, then sighed. “Let me ask you something. Personas are usually born from a stress response, from being in danger and afraid and having the talent in the first place. Your Personas woke up here, but is it possible that you were in a situation like that before?”

Minato thought back to his times in school and kendo training, but came up with nothing. “I don’t think so. Maybe when my parents and sister died, but that was a car accident, not a direct threat.”

They waited until a group of students passed them by before Akihiko-senpai spoke up again. “Yeah, but that was ten years ago. To a kid, that would have been threatening. So maybe you woke something up back then and haven’t been able to use it until now.”

He shook his head. “I’ve considered that, but it doesn’t make sense. If I had the talent and a Persona back then, why couldn’t I use it until now? Or feel it? Why wait until coming here before it manifested?”

Akihiko-senpai tapped his thumb against the railing, looking thoughtful. “Personas respond to the things around us, but we mostly use them in the Dark Hour. It’s a lot harder to use them in the daytime, isn’t it? Maybe you needed the circumstances to be right and you never felt in danger until then, but when you did, you had another Persona from before. You did manifest two of them on your first try.”

Minato frowned. He hadn’t considered that. “So you think I had more than one critical experience before they awoke, so I’ve always had more than one Persona?”

“It would make sense, considering your background,” Akihiko-senpai concluded. “Of course, I don’t know one way or the other, but different people show their talents in different ways, and I’ve never heard of a case like yours. So we have to take a few things on faith.”

That made sense. And there were a lot of things, Minato was learning, that they were pinning on faith considering their circumstances. “It could be. I don’t know for sure, but it’s the only thing that comes to mind.”

His senpai nodded with an upturn of his lips. “Well, it sounds like a good place to start. And you said you could make more Personas. What’s that like? I mean, how does it work?”

“I’m not sure how to explain it. It’s just something I do with a little help, and I’d rather not do it at all,” he admitted, glancing to the streets below. “There’s a lot of power in them, and it feels like being a lion tamer with a dead cow behind me. Sometimes they listen. Other times they get pushy, let’s just say. And relying on them feels like a bad idea. It would be easy to use them as a crutch, after all.”

“That’s smart. Too much power can be dangerous. Especially where Personas are involved.” There was that grim look to Akihiko-senpai’s face again, the same that he’d worn when he talked about Personas going out of control. “It’s good that you’re thinking about these things and taking them seriously.”

“It’s hard not to,” Minato replied. “I woke up in a hospital when things went sideways the first time. I don’t want to find out what could happen now that they’ve gotten stronger.”

“And you’re the team leader now,” Akihiko-senpai asserted with a sideways smile. “You can’t be reckless just for the sake of killing Shadows. Even if she gave you carte blanche to do things how you want, Mitsuru would kill you if you did something stupid like that.”

There it was again – Akihiko-senpai talking about Mitsuru-senpai so familiarly. Of course it made sense, considering how long they’d been comrades in arms. That didn’t stop the questions from nagging him. Minato stayed quiet, forming his words for his next question. It wasn’t really his business, but he wanted to know regardless. He gave a soft snort, his eyes narrowing as he caught his own lie. No, it was his business now, no matter how tangentially. He was her secretary and assistant, after all. And their team leader, since they’d given him the job without even asking. There were some details that he was privy to.

Now he just needed a proper way to ask the questions. Minato let out a long breath before taking the plunge. “Akihiko-senpai, how long have you known Mitsuru-senpai?”

“Hm? Oh, I don’t know. Years. Since I was in jr. high, I think. She scouted me when I started fighting in school tournaments. Why?”

“You two seem to work well together. And you’re both good fighters.” He wanted to bite his tongue and stop there, referring to the best boxer in his grade, regardless of district, as simply ‘good,’ but he continued on. “So I figured you two would be close since, you know, she doesn’t seem the sort to trust people easily. And you two are close. A s a team, that is.”

Akihiko-senpai turned an inquisitive eye toward him, and Minato cursed his interest and fumbling words. That never happened when he was talking to the others or about someone – anyone – else. He’d gone too far, and he knew it from the understanding glint in that look. And the small smile across those pale lips didn’t help either. “Mitsuru’s always been my boss,” Akihiko-senpai told him after drawing out the suspense. His tone was steady and impossible to read.

The team leader cringed. A standard, non-committal answer that was forcing his hand. “But you’re not… well, you’re close to her, right?”

“I’ve fought beside her for years. Fought with her sometimes, too. We’re comrades, after all, so yeah, we’re close.”

Minato grimaced. Akihiko-senpai was dancing around the real question, and Minato looked like a fool for his curiosity. “But you don’t feel… I mean, she’s your boss sure, but what about…”

“What about what? Our working relationship? It’s not much different from how we are now. Attending the same school, living together in the dorm, the usual. She handles the politics from the Kirijo Group, and I fight Shadows when they come up.”Akihiko-senpai’s smile quivered a little, and that glint deepened while Minato’s insides sank. “That’s how it’s always been, and she’s good at what she does. I admire how she handles things on that front, you know? She’s got a lot of followers because of it. Something about her, about how she deals with things so easily.”

“I… that’s a good point,” Minato replied weakly, trying to not sound too irritated by how easily his senpai was holding his answers out of reach like a piece of fish in front of a cat.

“And it carries over to how she fights. Well, you’ve seen that already, but she’s an important part of the fencing team here. She gets requests from scouts every year. She’s been offered full scholarship to any university she wants to attend, but that’s because of her academics, too. Her family name, school experience, grades, all those things.” This had to be the most Minato had heard the reticent fighter say. Ever. He would have been impressed if he weren’t on the receiving end of Akihiko-senpai’s wit. As it was, he felt like an idiot for being seen through so easily, and frustrated that his answers were beyond his reach. “Why do you want to know?”

“Well, it seems that, with all you’ve said, it’s odd that she doesn’t have suitors.” And Minato wanted to kick himself the second he said the words. The first coherent sentence he’d had, and his mind went there? He may as well have been wearing a sign.

Akihiko-senpai chuckled and shrugged. “There’ve been interested parties, from the Kirijo Group or other students. They never seem to get anywhere with her though.”

So there weren’t others vying for her attention. That was good, but it didn’t answer the question of Akihiko-senpai himself. “That doesn’t bother you?”

“Like I said, we’re comrades and friends. We’re past jealousy and that sort of thing. Why do you ask?”

It was an opening, a chance for Minato to spare himself any further embarrassment. It also meant he wouldn’t get any further on the topic today, but that was better than looking like an idiot. “I’m just wondering. She’s a pretty impressive person when you look at her credentials. But I was wondering about something else: why doesn’t SEES know much about the Shadows we’re facing, or the tower? You said that you didn’t have the people before, right? That there was a conflict of interest. What were the others like, before me and Yukari and Junpei?”

Akihiko-senpai’s features settled once the topic shifted, the humour leveling off. “We always had support from the Kirijo. Mitsuru’s father saw to that. But Persona-users are rare, so it’s not like we had a small army to work with. It’s actually pretty strange that we have as many of you as we do now. But yeah, we weren’t the only ones.”

“I don’t understand. If Mitsuru-senpai was the leader back then, and you had the candidates to explore Tartarus and the Shadows, then how was it different from what we’re doing now?”

Akihiko-senpai was silent for a long moment, then looked out over the streets. There was a grim set to his face, along with something else Minato couldn’t place. Anger, focus, and unpleasant memories were what he read, and that made sense since he’d heard Akihiko-senpai was an orphan, but there was something else there. Sadness? Regret? He couldn’t tell.

“There was another one of us,” he replied finally, his voice so soft that Minato had to lean closer to hear him clearly. “An old friend of mine. But the job, his Persona, it got to him. Not at first, and not really after, but he found it hard to deal with in the moment.” He sighed and held his hand out, clenching it into a fist before unclenching it, doing it over and over again. “Maybe he would’ve been happier now that we have a purpose and an enemy to fight. That was something we lacked before; we were just hunting down the small fry instead of these big ones that keep popping up. Either way, he gave up being part of SEES and using his Persona, and that’s why we had to stop our investigations. Until you and Takeba and Junpei joined up, we didn’t have the manpower. And Tartarus was too big a target to hit with three of us, let alone just two.”

“So a lot of this is new for you and Mitsuru-senpai as well,” Minato mused.

“Of course. We’ve never seen anything as big as the Shadow in the train yard or the one that attacked the dorm. Nothing like that came up while we were active, and the Kirijo Group doesn’t know anything about them.” Akihiko-senpai gave a grunt and shifted in place. “Believe me, we’ve grilled them for everything they know about the Shadows.”

It was good to know Akihiko-senpai wasn’t putting the Group above suspicion. Minato threaded his fingers together in thought. “If that’s the case, do you think your friend would ever come back? Now that we’re dealing with these bigger Shadows, even with Fuuka supporting us, we could use more people. Especially if he has earlier experience with a Persona.”

He got a shake of the head in response. “Considering why he left in the first place, I doubt it. I try to talk him into it whenever I see him, but he’s always been stubborn.”

“If that’s the case, and it might not be for me to say this, but I would think he’d try to stick with SEES and work through the problem instead of dropping it.”

To his surprise, Akihiko gave a grim, brittle laugh. “Too stubborn to give up, so he should’ve kept with it? I thought so too, but he surprised us when he left.” His senpai’s eyes went distant again. “Sometimes people change, I guess. I wouldn’t have expected it from him, but then, I’m not him.”

It was the obvious question, but Akihiko-senpai’s expression was telling him louder than words ‘don’t ask.’ Minato got the impression just then that this was more than a story about a friend who’d gone his own way, and wasn’t as clean as it sounded. “Do you know…”

The look he got said it all, that he was walking on dangerous ground. Not because Akihiko-senpai would snap at him, and perhaps he would, but because the wrong word would break the new, fragile friendship between them. “What?” Akihiko-senpai’s tone was grim and quiet, readying for a blow.

And Minato knew better than to try to tread on such raw wounds. Especially with someone he respected this much. “No, it’s nothing. Forget I said anything. Thanks for the information though, Akihiko-senpai. Do you think we’ll meet any other Persona-users from here on?”

His senpai blinked, then smiled as the mood lightened. He looked a bit grateful and more like the fighter that Minato recognized. “I have no idea. Before you, I would have said it wasn’t possible for one person to have more than one Persona, and that Shadows the size of the ones we’ve seen were impossible. But we seem to be learning these things as we go. And I have the feeling that this… whatever you want to call it, the Lost and the fight against the Shadows, it’s all a long way from ending.”

“We’ll be ready for them,” Minato replied. “That’s what Tartarus is for, right?”

That got a half smile from Akihiko-senpai, but his chuckle lacked the grim tone he’d had before. “One way or the other, yeah.” Then he checked his watch, pushing away from the rail a moment after. “We should head back if we’re going to be ready for school.” Minato nodded and followed, falling into step next to him. “You’re doing a good job, you know,” the older student told him after a few minutes. “I don’t know if that comes across, but handling the Shadow operations, leading the team, you’ve come a long way considering all the crap we threw at you from the start. Mitsuru’s mentioned it as well.”

Was this pity? An apology for withholding information? Repayment for not asking that question? Minato couldn’t tell. Whatever the motivation, he felt a spark of pride in his chest. Whether there was something between his senpai or not, and whether he’d know the answer to that question, at least they noticed his efforts. Noticed him. It wasn’t much. But it was a good start.

“Thanks, Senpai.”

 

* * *

 

She’d heard through the grapevine that her appreciation for kyudo was an abnormality. The general consensus was that she would have been better suited for the drama club, or being on the swim team. Kyudo was discipline, after all, and much more than just shooting arrows. Focus, concentration, a path to the self according to those old movies. And she was too lively, too energetic to sit in place and meditate while wearing clothes that belonged in an Edo-era festival or the museum.

She snorted as she set another arrow against the string. The swim team. Right. Those idiots just wanted to see her in a swimsuit and take pictures.

Inhale. Draw. Pause. Release on the exhale.

Her arrow snapped forward, soared across the range, and slammed into the target.

She smiled at the shot. Bullseye. That was better. She’d been off her game since Ikutsuki had returned her Evoker, complete with inscriptions. Mitsuru-senpai had needed to translate them, but the memory still made her click her tongue against her teeth in irritation.

He is braver who conquers his desires than he who conquers his enemies; the harder and greater victory is one over the self.

Of course she knew that dealing with her feelings was important. She hadn’t been sleeping through the kyudo lessons, after all, and hadn’t gotten this good at it out of luck. She controlled her reactions to working with the Kirijo, fought beside the others regardless of her personal feelings, and focused on finding out what happened to her dad. Everything she’d done since coming to the dorm had been for the goal of knowing and controlling herself to get what she wanted. But she’d come this far, fought this hard, and still couldn’t help the feeling that someone was laughing at her. Especially when Minato-kun and Akihiko-senpai got something that suited them perfectly.

“Um, good morning, Arisato-kun!”

Yukari stiffened, jolted out of her memories by the call of a junior to her left.

“Good morning, Batou-san. How are you? It looks like you’ve improved since the year started.”

Since he’d become associated with the Student Council, Minato-kun’s attitude had changed quite a bit. Or rather, she got the impression he was putting effort into being more open and amicable. Probably for Mitsuru-senpai’s sake. But where he would have slipped in the back door of the archery range or texted her for a meeting before, this time he’d strolled through the front entrance, nodding and chatting with those around him like he was a missing piece to their puzzle the entire time. It was a remarkable change, how he’d gone from avoiding company to actively participating in it.

And flirted with Batou-chan, if the girl’s red cheeks were any indication. He was in his usual slacks and blazer and tie, face half obscured by hair that made her fingers itch for some scissors, and had politely left his shoes at the door. She couldn’t remember if he’d been pale or not when he arrived at the dorm, but he seemed healthier than when they’d met. More animated and lively, as much as that was worth for a guy who could kill Shadows and swing swords while looking like he was waiting at the bus stop.

He glanced her way, hands in his pockets and a question in his eyes. She looked away from him, blushing a bit at the memory of his hands on her arms, at how firm his chest felt. She was still kicking herself for letting her cell phone scare her like that. “What’s up?” she asked, rolling her wrist back and forth, stretching the ache out of her bones while not looking directly at him.

If he took offense to being a secondary concern of hers, it didn’t show. Very little did, though. “I thought we could have a chat. About work and the others.”

That was a diplomatic way of putting it, since they were in the middle of her team mates. But she wasn’t in a talking mood. “I’m busy right now.”

“You’ve been firing for a while now, and the line-up’s growing.” He nodded to the small groups of students milling around, watching intently. Some looked curious, but others held bows and seemed to genuinely want to use them.

And it wouldn’t have been a good example if she hogged her spot the whole time. “Fine,” she sighed. “What is it?”

“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. I wanted to clear the air between us and start over, if you’ve got the time.”

Blink. Double blink. Well. That was unexpected. “I… what?”

This time he looked her in the eye, sober and unflinching. “You have reservations about the Kirijo Group, and I think you see me in the same light as Mitsuru-senpai and Akihiko-senpai, that I’m here on their orders or that I have an in with the company and how they operate. That’s not the case. The Kirijo took me in when my family died, and they’ve been paying for my schooling and boarding ever since. That’s it.”

He wasn’t lying. She could tell that much by his eye, and his story felt too solid to be fabricated for her benefit. But that didn’t stop the question that had plagued her since she’d first heard his story. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I never asked when I was younger, and I just got ‘This is how things are done’ when I asked them a few weeks ago. Maybe that’s their policy with employees and their families, and it could be that my parents were working for them when they died. Perhaps they knew someone who’s been helping me from the sidelines. I don’t have an answer to that question, and it’s not because I’m keeping secrets or haven’t tried.”

Nice and direct. Just like him. And she had a hard time finding faults with his logic. “Why tell me this?”

He shrugged. “Like I said, I want make sure things are alright between us. We’re comrades and friends, and I don’t really care if I’m being presumptuous by saying that. If there’s a problem, I’d like to clear it up and not leave it unaddressed. What we’re doing is too important to let trivialities get in the way.”

His answer made sense, and no matter how closely she watched him, she couldn’t pick up any deception from him. Of course, she couldn’t pick up much of anything from him anyway, but for all her wariness, she hadn’t heard a word about her ‘hooking up with the new guy’ like she had when he’d transferred. Whatever his reasons, he hadn’t said a word about her jumping against him when they’d gone looking for Fuuka. And that was worth something in her books. She sighed and nodded toward the wall at the back of the shooting range, keeping an eye on some of the newer students once they got there. “Alright. If there’s a problem with how things are run, I’ll let you know. What else did you need?”

He checked his phone for the time and leaned against the wall at a respectful distance, crossing his legs at the ankles nonchalantly. “I’m just curious about your opinion on how things are going at work. You were part of the group before me and Junpei, and I thought you might have some perspective on the particulars of the job that I don’t.”

Whatever her initial misgivings concerning his flippant sense of humour, to say nothing of his timing, Minato-kun was very good at getting to the point and making things sound natural. “I guess. I’m not sure it would compare to how you started out. I didn’t have things go out of control when I was hired like you did.”

“But you’re part of the team, and you were there before I was.” Her eyes narrowed a bit. If he wanted to know how SEES ran, why wasn’t he asking Mitsuru-senpai and Akihiko-senpai? They were the founding members and were in the know with the Kirijo, unlike the rest of them. Like he’d read her train of thought, Minato-kun’s smile widened a little. “I’ve talked to our senpai about it, but their opinion of things would be different from yours or Junpei’s. They know what’s going on at the upper levels with the Kirijo, so things probably make sense to them. At our level, though, things might not connect as easily.”

That caught her by surprise, but not as much as it would have before. Minato-kun was nothing if not thorough, and he wouldn’t let their senpai off the hook for no reason. “You doubt them? I thought you were close to Akihiko-senpai.”

“I am,” he told her simply. “But that’s not the same thing. I don’t think they’d lie to us, but that doesn’t mean that their answers are completely correct. Despite all this time and energy the Kirijo have put into their research, they seem to be as in the dark about the last couple of months as we are, and that’s kind of strange considering their history and resources. I think that there’s something they’re missing, and they might not see it because they think they have the answers.”

“Or they do have them and they just aren’t telling us,” she suggested, keeping the anger out of her voice.

“That’s also possible.” She gave a small ‘hm?’ in surprise. Considering how tight he seemed with the Kirijo, hearing him openly doubt them was a change she hadn’t expected. Again, he seemed to know exactly what was on her mind. “There are too many unanswered questions about this whole situation for them to be completely innocent. And I’m not saying that they are hiding something. But it’s worth keeping the possibilities open.”

She let that sink in, then relaxed against the wall with a sigh. She was glad that their leader was keeping his eyes open. “Well, I don’t have much else to say. I don’t like being under their thumb, but considering everything that’s going on, I can’t complain too much. I mean, it’s like you said; we’re dealing with things that no one’s gone through before. So we’re not doing too bad, considering.”

“I’m glad to hear it. If that changes, let me know.”

“Sure, I will.”

He turned toward her and extended his right hand. “Are we alright?”

She looked at it warily. The thought of him raising it to his face and kissing it in front of everyone flashed before her eyes. But no, she decided with a small shake of her head. Minato-kun wasn’t like that. He’d always been polite, and he’d come to see her to settle things without knowing how she’d react. She might not trust all the unanswered questions around him, but she knew that he wouldn’t betray her.

Yukari reached out and took his hand firmly in hers, sealing their deal with the shake. His palm and fingers were tough, callused, which didn’t surprise her considering how much swordplay he engaged in. What did surprise her was how warm it was. She hadn’t thought someone so slender would generate that much heat. “Yeah, I guess we are. Just keep your eyes open. Mitsuru-senpai’s been helpful, but I don’t trust the Group and their politics.”

He took his hand back and tapped the wall thoughtfully. “I don’t blame you for that. Though it seems like you know more about them than most. The students just know that they built the school and leave it at that. They rarely take any interest in politics.”

Yukari grimaced. “That’s… personal. Not a happy topic for me.”

“I see. I’m sorry for bringing it up.” She wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that she was still struggling with what her dad’s work with the Group had done to her family. But he beat her to the punch. “Anyway, what do you think of the others? Fuuka seems to be fitting in alright.”

“We’ve been talking a lot. She’s pretty interesting once she opens her mouth. And she says you’ve been helping her out a lot too. I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting that.”

He gave a small smile and a shrug. “She could use someone in her corner. It’s better for her than her being delegated as a social outcast or tossed to the sidelines all the time. If it can help her, then it’s worth the effort.”

There was a heavy silence between them as their minds went to the last member of their group. Yukari’s mood dropped when her past was mentioned, and it didn’t look like Minato-kun wanted to talk about him either. But classes were starting soon, and they had just promised to talk about their work problems openly. “What about Junpei?”

Minato-kun sighed, looking away. “It’s hard to say. I thought he needed his space, but things are getting worse. Last week was toeing the line in a serious way. If he pushes things any more, our senpai might step in, and I don’t think that will end well.”

“But it’s not like we can suspend him,” she pointed out. “I mean, we’ll need everyone in top shape pretty soon, and we can’t afford for him to not be at his best. What if there’s two of them again?”

His expression was stony, but she could see the conflict in his eye and the twitch of his cheeks. “I feel the same way. I’m not sure how things will work out. I know that he’s jealous about something, but I haven’t a clue as to what his problem is.”

Yukari thought it was pretty obvious. Junpei had always been in the background, so being part of SEES was a chance to shine in ways no one else could. But Minato-kun’s tactics, Personas, brains and being elected leader right from the start was putting him back where he’d been before – at the bottom of the totem pole. She knew it was tough on him, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it, and his pride wouldn’t let him accept her help, either. She clicked her tongue and changed the subject; she’d heard some rumours that needed to be confirmed. “So how are you fitting in? It seems like you’ve been making some waves this past week.”

His expression broke into a short, wry smile as he glanced at her. “You heard about that, did you? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

She didn’t see what was so funny about being called out to kendo ‘practice’ by four students. “You can back out if you’re worried, you know. I’ll talk to some of them, and I’m sure Hidetoshi would do the same.”

“And they’d say I can’t stick up for myself or fight my own battles,” he pointed out with half a smile. She rolled her eyes exasperatedly, but he held out a calming hand. “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not just male pride or ego. If I rely on others to solve my problems, I’ll never hear the end of it around here. Better to deal with problems head on in that case, right?”

She frowned, then let out a weary sigh. “So what are you doing about it then? Arm-wrestling a hundred of them in a row?”

He chuckled and an anticipatory light sparked in his eyes, reminding her of their missions in Tartarus. “Stop by the kendo ring later today. You’ll see then.”

 

* * *

 

She did, as he noticed later on. So did Fuuka and Junpei. Her and about fifty other students were seated or standing or slouched around the kendo ring, looking on with bated breath. It seemed that word of mouth was indeed an impressive force in Gekkoukan High, and Minato didn’t bother to keep the smirk from his face. There were a few enterprising students scurrying around with money and ledgers, placing bets. He regretted leaving his wallet in his jacket, which was safely stowed away, and made a note to ask Yukari later what his odds were.

“So, you ready Arisato?”

Minato turned to see the group who’d invited him, two in proper kendo gear, the other two down to their shirts and staying back. He shifted the shinai in his hand, deliberately holding it wrong. “Sure. So, what’re the rules? And we are just practicing, right?”

The spokesman grinned, in no way friendly or inviting. “Of course. And they’re simple – just sparring until you or we can’t anymore, like losing our weapons or being out of the ring, or if you can’t get up. By the way, are you left-handed?”

Perfect excuse to beat him if none of those applied to him. On the off chance that they actually landed a hit. “Nope. Why?”

“No reason.”

Liar. He looked them over, assessing their stances before adopting his naiveté again.“Are all of you necessary for this? I thought it was going to be one at a time.”

“We’ll stay back and observe. No worries.”

“Right. Well, I guess we should start, right?” He shifted into place, leaving openings, and settled his breathing before closing his eyes. The world hummed around him, his Personas swirled around his consciousness, and countless hours of training were laid out before his mind. Instructions came back on the currents of memory, old and new.

Muscles loose. Balance centred. In. Out. In. Out.

He reopened his eyes, noting their positions around him. Clever, but there were gaps that would cost them dearly when they moved. It was obvious they were working together, but weren’t used to it. He tilted his hand out, silently asking well? What’s keeping you?

The first one rushed him and swung with a shout. Minato let himself flow back half a step, taken aback by the blatant move. He worked to keep his disbelief at bay – some sloppiness was expected, but this was pathetic. Bad balance, too much forward momentum, and his opponent was projecting his strikes so obviously that he would have missed even if Minato had molasses in his veins.

As it was, Minato stepped back and grabbed the closest arm as it passed him, spinning along with it, over-balancing the student and tripping him as he passed, then completing the spin and letting the rush, too strong to stop, do the rest. He hadn’t even bothered swing his shinai.

The student’s kendo gear was impressive, and impressively loud as he crashed to the floor, clearly outside the ring. Minato balanced on his foot and finished his turn like a dancer, swaying like a willow in the wind as he faced the other armoured student, whose eyes mirrored shock and disbelief. “That counts, right? I mean, he’s out of the ring,” Minato pointed out, keeping up his naiveté but letting the deadpan return to his voice. He stopped carelessly holding his shinai, prepared for the others however they came.

The remaining geared student shuffled in place, trying to match the disparity between what he saw Minato do versus what he saw before him and what they’d expected. Then he gripped his shinai and bolted forward, swinging around in a wide arc–

Only to stop in his tracks when Minato lunged and swung down. Their weapons cracked together and he’d cut the power out of the blow before it really started. Disbelief was in the student’s eyes again, but he grunted angrily and swung again. And Minato interrupted the strike once more, right in front of him like a flag before the bull. And like the bull, the student charged, trying to shove Minato back or push him to the ground.

Minato budged an entire inch and a half. Then stopped dead in his tracks, weight braced forward and completely unmoving. The students around them gasped and murmured, questioning how someone as skinny as Arisato (and he resented that label. He wasn’t skinny – clothing just made him look slender) was stopping someone forty pounds heavier than he was. And that was before taking the armour into account.

He let them wonder and shoved back, offsetting the student’s balance, then wrapped his leg between his opponent’s, and grappled, shoved hard, and spun all at once. The student tried to catch his balance, but overcorrected and slammed into the mat hard.

Minato stood over him, looking down curiously before stepping on his sword hand, keeping the still-clenched weapon in place. Then he whacked the student across the mask with his shinai, ignoring his attempts to get away. “You fight for points in kendo, right? And call your target when you plan on hitting it?” he asked, facing the remaining two and their pale, chagrined faces. “In that case, face,” and he swung again, connecting with the mask, and the student wearing it. Again. Again. And again. When the student’s free arm reached up, to stop the swings or grab at Minato, he swung down sharply, cracking the shinai across the student’s knuckles. “Wrist,” Minato called, before stepping back and kicking the student’s shinai from his open fist and out of the ring with one more crack across the face. The student rolled away stopped trying to get up, trying to catch his wind.

“Stay down, please,” Minato told him. “Be a good sport of it, alright?” He glanced at the other armoured student, glaring from the sidelines but empty-handed and staying where he was. Minato looked and saw Junpei, who looked up from the students and locked eyes with him before shaking his head, disgust written on his face, and pushing through the crowd to leave. Minato shrugged and turned, mind set on the fight and not on his comrade’s attitude. He spun his weapon through his fingers, walking towards the centre of the ring and addressing the remaining two opponents. “Now then, I think this is more appropriate, no?”

“You lied,” their leader whispered.

That earned them a toneless chuckle. “So did you, and being at a disadvantage isn’t much incentive for me to be honest, is it? Anyway, will you bow out? There’s no shame in withdrawing before your betters.”

“Don’t get cocky!” the leader shouted, rushing forward with the last student in tandem. It was a fine attack, well-coordinated once the shock wore off, and might have defeated a less-skilled opponent. Minato, however, flowed around them, parrying and dodging and never staying where they wanted him to. He chuckled each time they missed, letting them fumble around him. And, because he wasn’t done having his fun, he darted forward and shouted “Body!”, and the student flinched back. Minato’s lips peeled back, watching as he realized that he was being toyed with. Minato started striking, keeping them separated and dancing from strike to block to parry, shouting his targets and snapping out feints. The student’s nerve broke, and he rushed forward and cut downward, trying to break Minato’s concentration.

Thrusts were faster than cuts, however. Minato lunged forward like greased lightning, the tip of his shinai cracking against the student’s solar plexus. His gasp and the impact echoed in the room before he crumpled to the floor, unarmed, nerveless, and struggling to breathe through the pain.

One more to go.

Whether by instinct or his Personas, Minato knew where he was, and time slowed as he spun. Every muscle and tendon, every nerve, feet to calves to hips, arms to shoulders, his whole upper body, pulled around at once. He didn’t even need to see where the strike was coming from.

His body twisted and the shinai came around, powering his swing as it began its arc.

Around. Faster. His head turned, catching sight of his target.

A growl rose in his chest as he swung. Lunging forward half a step and throwing his weight into the blow, he swung. And caught the descending weapon in the middle. The collision jolted his wrists and sounded like a whip crack, stopping the spokesman in place. The impact was so great it tore the weapon free from the student’s grasp, sending it flying. It spun in a lazy arc, end over end, and slammed into the weapon stand at the side of the ring. Students scattered away from it in shock, and the practice weapons crashed across the floor, a rattling report breaking the tension.

Two disarmed, one disqualified, and one still struggling to breathe past the pain. The match was over. Yukari and Fuuka were at the edge of the crowd, looking relieved and a bit proud. Minato stood before their leader, shinai held at his troat, and he was just starting to breathe hard. The stunned silence around them was like a wall, the spotlight on them and no one else. His smile was frozen into place, and he tapped the tip against his foe’s chest. “Game, set, match: Arisato.”

“You cheated.”

“Hardly. I capitalized on a misconception. You took the bait, and this is the result.” The student’s eyes narrowed, but Minato glared him down. “You were planning on ambushing me and leaving me black and blue on the floor, so you don’t get to play the injured party.”

“There are others, you know,” he hissed. “Not just us.”

“And they’ll get the same treatment,” Minato replied coldly before letting out a long-suffering sigh. “Look, I didn’t ask to move into the same dorm as Mitsuru-senpai. Those were the arrangements that were made outside of my influence. Same as Yukari – she was already living there when I arrived. I didn’t have a choice in the matter, and I’m not trying to steal her away from anyone. We happen to work together and that’s it. So you don’t like me? That’s fine – we don’t have to be friends. But this,” he gestured around them, “is going to happen each time you try to get rid of me, and next time I might not hold back. So why don’t we agree to let this go and just move on?”

The student scoffed, anger and denial clear on his face. “You think you can beat all of us?”

“If they fight like you do, I know I can.” The glares he got could have killed a musk ox, but he held a hand out. “Come on. Just let it go. I don’t want to waste my time here when I don’t have to, and winning the bets and taking everyone’s money is going to get boring, even for me.”

The glares kept up, but there was doubt there too. They’d read his sincerity, and he was sincere, and were reconsidering a few things. Or they just didn’t want to fight him again after being trounced so handily. But Minato’s musings were interrupted by a faint, familiar scent of peppermint. It drew his eyes around, and he saw her. Mitsuru-senpai, but covered in full-body padding, and he broke into a grin. She was walking away from the gathering, either not noticing or not caring about what was going on, off toward the fencing ring on the other end of the gym. Perfect.

Minato smirked at his glaring opponent and held up a finger. “Excuse me, won’t you?” And he left without a response, following her to the fencing mats and tossing his shinai to a student in passing. The crowd parted before him as he moved, and once he got a clear look at her, he saw what she was wearing: fencing gear, complete with two practice swords and a wire mask. “Mitsuru-senpai! Do you have a minute?”

She turned at the sound of his voice and her eyes widened at the crowd behind him before narrowing when she saw the prone students and heard their groans. “What’s going on here?”

Minato brushed off her inquiry with a smile and a wave of his hand. “Oh, nothing. We were just settling a dispute, and it turned into a larger event than we expected. A few people heard about it, then a few more, and, well, you know how it goes.”

Her eyebrow raised. “So a sparring match became a public spectacle? How many teams were there? And why aren’t you in kendo gear if you were fighting?”

“Two teams, senpai. And the rest are harmless details. No one was hurt too badly, after all.”

She stared at him, then looked at the kendo ring, putting the pieces together so fast her eyes, those unusual crimson eyes that felt friendly rather than threatening from the very beginning, almost glowed in the artificial light. “I don’t think I want to know,” she told him finally. “The less I hear about it, the more I can defer to Hidetoshi if anything arises. Would you agree?”

“Entirely, senpai.” Now that he was this close to her, he glanced at her fencing gear and noted how well she wore it. And it was her that made it work, because he knew how restrictive it was from experience. There was something about her, a part of her allure, that, even this close, he couldn’t explain. He still remembered, vivid as a snapshot, how she looked in her leather motorcycle gear. How she was covered from brows to boots and was unquestionably sexy at the same time with the buckles and grooves running up her figure like a lover’s caress. And here she was, clad in off-white padding and canvas, probably on the top five list of the least sexy things to wear, and he had the same feeling as when she’d been straddling her bike. Was there anything that she didn’t wear well? Because she made what was a step down from a straightjacket looking like gauzy sleepwear, and it was horribly unfair.

“Anyway,” she told him as she turned to walk away, “don’t get carried away. We can’t afford any injuries, even if you don’t think there’s a risk.”

His blood was up, victory rich in his mouth, and he’d summarily crushed the students who’d been bothering him for weeks. In the rush of the moment, he forgot his uncertainty around her. It was nowhere to be found. “Spar with me.”

She took three more steps before the words registered. Then she turned and blinked at him, incredulous. “What did you say?”

“I’d like you to spar with me,” he elaborated, finding his words easily. “The match before was a good warm up, but I haven’t had the opportunity to see you in action here. And everyone says you’re one of the best.”

She turned her head, eyeing him skeptically. “That might not be wise, Arisato. There are other fencers on the team you could train with.”

“But none of them are you,” he pointed out, ignoring the double meaning to the phrase. “And we could call it a learning experience, right?”

“You truly want to fight me?”

He gave a small bow. “I’d consider it an opportunity, honestly. Two out of three?”

She gave him an appraising look, then a small, familiar smile. “…I see. If you are determined to so this, then I accept. So long as you wear the proper equipment.”

He quickly went to the equipment racks and tied on a rudimentary practice vest, strapping on gloves and a mask before grabbing a fake saber meeting her in the fencing ring. The crowd that had surrounded him before migrated over, surrounding them with questions and whispers and growing even larger. He brushed off the distractions and focused on his opponent. Her practice rapier was already drawn and at her side, and in her left hand was a shorter blade. A dagger or a gauche, he surmised. That made sense. Most fencers only used one weapon, but he’d seen Mitsuru-senpai tear through Shadows with her Evoker always at hand or nearby. Just fighting with her sword would probably throw her off.

He tested the weight and balance of his weapon, heartbeat picking up again. Unlike the others, who would see one fight as enough, he was just warmed up. He didn’t have to worry about his stamina anymore – Tartarus and the Dark Hour had seen to that. He saluted her, which she returned, and snapped a cut toward her, testing her defenses. Where his cuts were hard and sharp, her defenses were light and precise. She was good. She never tried to meet him in strength, instead controlling the fight through misdirection and light parries. It was different from their fights in Tartarus, and it still got his blood up.

He focused on her movements, comparing them to how she fought with a real blade. Footwork, posture, weight and balance, it was different from what he’d seen before. It seemed like she was taking him lightly. Or testing his defences. Either way, she stayed at the full range of her weapon.

Which was why it was a surprise when her sword dug into his chest, right over his heart.

Minato stiffened and saw her practice blade bend between them. Then blinked. “Point,” she told him before backing up, not letting her guard down. He hadn’t even seen her move. But then, he was distracted, and since he challenged her, it would be bad form to not take her seriously. The crowd murmured even more, and there was applause and several cheers from the students.

Stepping to the side and slipping into a proper fencing stance, he steadied his breathing and focused on her. He was serious, and she read that. Their game began. She’d advance and he’d anticipate her strikes and counter. Then he’d advance and she would return the favour. Forth and back, back and forth, neither overextending or missing a step.

Yukari had been right, back in Tartarus. Fencing was boring to watch, especially between two skilled combatants. Testing for weaknesses, watching the other while checking one’s footwork, and learning the tells and habits of the opponent; it all looked like long-range knitting while shuffling along the floor. But such precision was intense in its own right. Minato was sweating more than during his kendo match, and it was all due to his focus and hers. He wouldn’t give her an opening, and she was slowing moving her weapons to keep her own weaknesses obscured.

Both toyed around and played with the distance that lay between, but neither committed to a full attack. He had longer arms than she did and was more accustomed to cuts, but she used her two blades easily, forming an excellent defence. It plastered a grin on his face as they moved in synch, and he felt like laughing. Such an affair had to be enjoyed to the fullest, after all. She licked her lips, a small emergence of a pink tongue to ease her breathing. He kept down a shiver, blaming it on how intense her eyes were, burning clearly from behind her mask. Then she lunged. She used his distractions to her advantage, pressing him hard until he caught her flat-footed and slashed back aggressively, following her without letting up. Her feints and parries were losing their precision, and he was sure she almost stumbled once.

He had her and he knew it. Seeing an opening, a chance to end the fight, he lunged. And barely saw her as she flew forward to meet him.

His sword crashed into hers, and the rapier was sent flying when she let it go. In that second, he knew he was screwed. Confident, he’d overextended, stepping too far forward. Her empty hand grabbed his sword arm as it passed and he was pulled forward sharply. He budged a little, and she flowed forward, then around him, latching on and setting him off balance. He pulled back, then to the side. Nothing. She held him immobile, using her leverage and speed to keep him in place. He was about to elbow her or shake her off when he felt her body press against him and dagger slip up against his neck, fake blade against his windpipe.

He didn’t move, barely breathed, as he took in the situation. And was frozen in place. She was wrapped around him like a sinuous vine around a tree, holding his sword hand to the side while her legs rested against his. Her left arm was wound around his side and front, steady with her dagger at his neck. And her entire front, padding and all, was plastered against his back.

Her scent filled his nostrils and went straight to his head. Clean spice and mint and light sweat from their sparring, along with something distinctly her. The combination made his insides quiver and his breathing pick up. He was starting to get light-headed, and exertion was the least of his concerns. He couldn’t help it – her proximity, pressed up against him, around him, so close her could feel her, them, through the padding, sent his mind reeling. Firm and soft, warm, breathing and alive right against him, her arms around his torso, her pelvis against his waist.

It was another first for him. No one, not a girl his age or anyone else, had ever gotten this close to him. His tongue was failing him, his wits nowhere to be found, and he began to sweat with her being so close, her scent filling his head as he tried to process everything. For all his acumen and skill, he had no idea what to do next.

“Touché,” she told him in a tone that was low and decisive, but sounded like a throaty whisper that scorched the side of his face and set his knees trembling. He could imagine the small, satisfied smile across her lips and the dark, clouded look to her eyes. Gracious in victory, but she would enjoy it when the victor was so obvious. And she had earned that right. “That’s two out of three, Arisato. A valiant effort. Enough so that we’ll try it again, yes?”

She pulled back, slowly running the dagger against his neck like a warning, a reminder of how handily she’d beaten him. Then disengaged from him entirely, and his legs nearly gave out as the inertia of the moment hit. Mitsuru-senpai saluted him before checking her watch and leaving, citing a pressing appointment. He barely heard her. His previous opponents called to him and jeered from the sidelines, vindicated by their senpai’s obvious victory. He didn’t notice.

Akihiko-senpai came over, waving a hand in front of his face. “You alright? You look a little shaky.”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Only he wasn’t. His hands were steady, but shivers still ran through his entire body, trembling up his bones and down his marrow. Not anger or nerves or fear or adrenaline. But her. She’d gotten to him, right to the core. And he watched her leave, best he could over the crowd. Red hair free from the mask and flowing over her gear like a vase of red roses on a marble column. He shook his head and tried to brush it off. There were still too many things he didn’t know before entertaining these thoughts. Even if he was still shaking, with Akihiko-senpai asking again if he was alright. “I’m fine.” Some time and distance were what he needed, and they’d go away on their own.  
But they didn’t.

 

* * *

 

The students of the Iwatodai dorm had their traditions and quirks. And not just in summoning high-power manifestations of their psyches to kill creatures that devoured the minds of humans, or scaling a tower that reached to the sky via the stairs since the builders never bothered with an elevator. No, Minato was learning that the people with whom he shared his residence had their own routines that were followed through with, morning, noon and night, like normal teenagers. Junpei stayed up watching movies and complained about oversleeping while rushing out the door five minutes late. Fuuka regularly came to the dinner table wearing smudges of grease and smelling like solder. Mitsuru-senpai had her regular reading times during which interrupting her was tantamount to suicide. Akihiko-senpai did the grocery shopping just so he could stock the fridge with protein drinks and health food that tasted like mouldy cardboard and looked like wet paper. And Yukari took forever in the shower, no matter how many she’d already had. Which wouldn’t have bothered Minato in the least if his water piping weren’t linked to hers, so when he went to wash the sweat off, he usually did so in cold water. Or luke-warm, if he was lucky.

He let out an annoyed breath, tapping his sword hilt as Fuuka told them about their target and Akihiko-senpai explained the operation. The metallic sound irritated him when he remembered why it was different from usual.

The pre-mission rituals of the SEES members were no less important than their normal ones, if only for their peace of mind, when preparing for a night-time operation. Straightforward as Fuuka found scanning for Shadows, she apparently worked at a high temperature, so she was often sweating by the time the sorties were over. While getting everything prepared, it wasn’t unusual to see her with a scarf or a bandana and a cooler of chilled water nearby. Akihiko-senpai shadow-boxed for exactly 11 minutes before they could leave or get an answer from him. Junpei had taken to eating the same thing for dinner, rice and seasoned chicken covered in instant noodles and mirin sauce, on nights they knew they’d be fighting. And Mitsuru-senpai listened to the recordings of her classes in Latin while Yukari paced, 18 feet and 7 5/12 inches, back and forth in the lobby.

“Is everyone ready to go? Arisato, are you with us?”

Minato’s routine was a bit less obvious, but had stemmed from his lessons in kendo and fencing. A good grip on the sword was ideal, but fights were chaotic, and grabbing too hard or clenching a fist and digging into his own hand could throw off his focus. He’d only given it partial thought when he’d heard it, but now he could appreciate what his teachers meant. So, before each night’s activities, he could be found sitting on the edge of the couch examining his fingernails and meticulously trimming or filing them as needed. It had been an interesting sight when he’d asked to borrow a nail file and emery board from Yukari, but his explanation had put any doubts to rest. And he’d gotten used to the feel of the couch before they left, the sound and feel of the file across his fingertips and the feel of dust on his palms once he was done. It quickly became a relaxation exercise and a strong focusing tool that even put his Personas to rest before the chaos of an expedition into Tartarus.

Which made it all the more aggravating that he’d slept in and rushed in his preparations and had left his nails longer than he wanted while he was being carted off to their new target. He looked up at the dilapidated love hotel with a scowl blacker than a coal mine at midnight, as though it was the one to break his alarm clock and set him behind, and grunted in annoyance. “Yeah. A Shadow’s been found in the red light district, and it seems to have brought smaller ones with it.” Fuuka nodded, satisfied.

“That’s good,” Junpei said aloud, rolling his shoulders. “Small place like this means it can’t run anywhere and we won’t have to go looking very hard for it.”

“Agreed. But we’ll have to be careful with collateral damage,” Minato pointed out, catching some quizzical looks while their senpai nodded approvingly. “The walls are just wood and drywall. Same as the ceilings. If we get carried away, there could be structural damage, and enough of that could be a hazard if things start caving in. And even if it doesn’t, the confined quarters will be tricky to work through with all of us. So be careful and choose your targets.”

“A valid point,” Mitsuru told them, securing her gloves and straightening her sword belts. Minato’s eye stopped on the curve of her hip and how her scabbard rested against it. Imagining how soft the skin under it was. And other soft parts of her. Then he shook his head sharply. Now wasn’t the time to think about the other day, no matter how tempting the memory was. Or how he could still smell her when he was alone. Or that those shivers were half the reason he hadn’t gotten any sleep.

To get his mind off the temptation, he glanced at the others, noting how Fuuka was setting up near the wall surrounding the building, tying her bandana around her neck and checking the streets for movement and safe hiding places. That made sense. If they failed or let any Shadows past them, she’d be on her own. Then he looked over at the last female on the team, and she was stretching in place and looking at the place before looking away. The odd thing was, when she glanced at him and their eyes met, she blushed even more and looked away from him. Strange. She’d done the same thing on the archery range the other day. “You alright, Yukari?”

“I… yeah, I’ll be fine. This place just… never mind. Let’s just get it over with.”

He was about to ask more when Akihiko-senpai announced that it was time to rock. “Good luck. And be careful,” Fuuka told them, summoning her Persona and speaking to each of them in turn to establish her connection.

He nodded to her and the others, nodding to the front door. “Let’s do it.”

Getting through the entrance hall was simple. The door was hanging on its hinges and nothing looked like it had been tended to in years. There also weren’t any coffins as they progressed. No occupants. One less thing to worry about.

But the ease of the operation was lost when they got past the first corridor. Somehow, though there was proof that no one was here, the scent of jasmine and oily, acrid perfumes hung in the air like a haze. It rolled over them the moment they opened the door to the interior, and the combination made Minato’s eyes sting. Akihiko-senpai waved his hand in front of his face and started breathing shallowly while Mitsuru-senpai held a handkerchief to her nose, muttering in French. Junpei and Yukari were coughing , trying to clear their lungs. “Seems like someone’s here,” Minato observed, hand to his face to ward off the scent even though speaking brought the taste into his mouth, enough to make him gag. “That or the Shadows got a fashion advisor who doesn’t believe in bathing,” he continued through short, sharp coughs. The smell was getting worse.

“Is it nearby?” Yukari asked, wiping at her eyes. “This can’t be good for us. Not for the whole hour.”

Minato checked the corners of the corridor they were in, then focused to gain his bearings. When his shoulder touched the wall, though, his spine shot stiff. He broke out in a cold sweat and barely breathed, listening closely.

There is was. Past the nauseating smell and the noise of the others, the cold, brittle words that he couldn’t understand. When he took a few steps toward the source, it just got worse. The chattering. The hissing. Low, dry, like a thousand beetles with knives on their legs crawling up his spine and along his eardrums. Even after the last battle, it still sent him into shivers. “This way,” he told the others. Then bit his tongue. He hadn’t meant to say that, and if they suspected that he–

“Yeah, Fuuka agrees,” Akihiko-senpai told him from behind, breaking his worried thoughts. “On the next block or two of rooms. Seems pretty close to the entrance. Strange place to be if it wanted to hide.”

“Maybe it doesn’t,” Junpei pointed out, sweat and tears dripping on his face from the smell. “Maybe it’s an ambush and it wasn’t expecting Fuuka to find it.”

“That’s an odd place for an ambush,” Yukari commented between grimaces. Despite her coughs, she was looking pale. “Seems like it’s pretty out of the way. If it wanted to attack us, why not set up closer to the main areas?”

“Who knows,” Minato told them, drawing his sword and Evoker. “You’re probably right though, that this can’t be good for us. Let’s kill this thing and get out of here before it starts messing with us even more.”

He led them down the halls, focusing on the noise in his brain to keep the smell down. But it seemed to lighten up the worse the noise got. He looked to the others and noticed that their reactions were lessened as well, and suspicion began to grow. “Be careful,” Akihiko-senpai growled, hand on his Evoker as they gathered outside the door Fuuka mentioned. “Something’s not right about this.”

“Agreed. Play this one by the numbers.” Minato looked to the others, nodded, then slammed his shoulder into the door, rushing through and raising his Evoker the moment he felt the Shadow’s presence. His gunshot was the first of many as the others unleashed their powers all at once, trying to get the fight done as fast and efficiently as possible.

But that was the problem – it was over far too soon. Between their concerted efforts and hours of training together, the Shadow could only mount a cursory defense. They’d split into two teams and hammered at it from one side, then the other group attacked when it turned to face its attackers. Soon, it burst like a ruptured pustule and died in a gargling hiss. When its death throes calmed and it lay twitching like a blasted mound of raw, oily meat, the mirror at the back of the room hummed.

That’s when they knew something was wrong. The Dark Hour distorted, wavering and wobbling under them like the cement foundation had turned to water. An alien pressure hit like a hard, fierce current, knocking Yukari and Junpei from their feet. And the scent of jasmine and violets and cheap perfume washed over them like a tide, leaving them drowning. Minato swore sharply, covering his nose as his vision dimmed. A trap, just like on the train. An ambush. He saw the others fighting against it, shouting something. He couldn’t hear a word. No voices or chattering. The scent got even heavier, thick tobacco and sex now mixed in, coating his lungs, so heavy his tongue burned and teeth ached and breathing was painful.

His feet rolled under him, and his knees buckled, bringing him to the carpet. He tried to work against it, to push himself up, to fight, but his fingers were nerveless. His chin drooped into his chest. And the scent became strong enough to hold him in place. But it didn’t, letting him fall like a spiteful lover.

The darkness in his vision swarmed to the centre. Everything went black. And he heard and saw nothing else.

 

* * *

 

A bed. Pillows, sheets, a soft mattress. The room. Water splashing in the shower. It came to him in slow, groggy realizations. He stared at the ceiling for minutes on end before he thought to get up, sitting on the bed with jasmine and perfume in his head. He blinked, and his eyes felt gritty, sandy no matter how much he rubbed at them. Then he checked his gear. Because he should check his gear. In case he needed it. His sword was on his belt, twisting awkwardly at his side. And his Evoker was holstered, polished metal grip shining in the strange, wavy light.

Touching his Evoker, making sure it was real, made him realize what wasn’t there: his Personas. Not a sound or a slither, not so much as a peep from the inhabitants of his soul. Which was good. It meant no more pain or problems. Unless he needed them. Did he need them? Why would he? What was he doing again?

The other thing he saw as he rose to his feet, unsteady and groggy, was the silhouette in profile against the shower door. Feminine, slender limbs, and obviously naked. He tried to feel ashamed, embarrassed, but none of the feelings came. Just warmth and anticipation. His fingers itched when he looked at the door handle. But should he? That was his team mate, it had to be, and…

~Go on. Don’t you want to? Let go of your restraint. What good is it? Does it feel better to deny yourself? You do, you know. You deny yourself so much.~

Those words ran up and down his vertebrae, sending him into shivers and chills. But… no, if that were her, then she wouldn’t have anything to do with him. They were comrades and allies, perhaps friends, but nothing more.

~Are you so sure about that?~

The room swam around him, and he stumbled forward, barely catching himself before his sword jammed him in the ribs. But his feet hit concrete, not carpet. He looked into the darkness, then heard footsteps approaching. Three pairs, and the world shifted into view.

The train station? What am I… What’s going on?

Yukari and Junpei limped toward him. No, that wasn’t right. He’d been next to them, making sure they– There he was. He was approaching himself, covered in Shadow guts and burn marks and bruises. Their first Shadow operation. It all came back to him. But if that was him, then who was he?

Strong. I knew he would be. The words echoed in his head, filling it like rich wine, and it wasn’t his voice. Low, husky, familiar and one of a kind. Mitsuru-senpai. Were these her thoughts? Brave and skilled too. Takeba and Iori did fine, but Arisato was the real hero. Very… intriguing. I’ll have to watch him. More than interest, desire and the need to know more ran in his veins, a primal attraction that couldn’t be denied, deep-seated and coaxed out with her intellect.

No… This isn’t right. It’s not her.

~Are you sure? What’s wrong with such strong attraction? You’re young, she’s interested, there’s nothing in your way now.~

More visions passed. Glances of him in the dorm, in Tartarus, at school. Keeping him nearby on the Student Council. Always interested, always assessing when he wasn’t looking. Every day it was deeper, stronger, and it dragged his head down, so potent that his vision swam in the sensations. Strong enough to make him sick. Stronger than anything he’d felt before.

That’s… That’s not… How do you know this? Who are you?

There was a presence, on the edge of sensation, almost enough to feel, but his mind went sluggish when he reached out. No, it didn’t matter. But she… Mitsuru-senpai…

The world shifted again, and he saw himself in the fencing ring, held still and beaten, knife to his throat. But his mind echoed with her thoughts again. Mmm, he’s strong. Wiry, fit, fast. Not like the others. Smart and sexy too. Especially that hair and those eyes. Her attraction, heady and intoxicating, hitting him so hard he almost fell over. He felt her quickened pulse, the layers of her clothes and how they hugged her and rubbed her, every scent and sensation. Her arousal that sent him into a spiral.

It was becoming too much.

He shuddered at the memory, the heat against his back, the softness, her breath and scent as real as life and twice as sharp. And he looked at the silhouette in the door again, resistance breaking as the visions faded into murky shadows. She was bigger than a normal Japanese girl. Not taller or wider, but fuller. She had dimensions that could rouse a dead man, curves that were a sin. From her fine, pale neck and those gorgeous red tumbles of hair, a colour he’d never seen from anyone else. Her chest, more substantial than the other girls he’d looked at, and yet she couldn’t be any other way. Firm, soft, and so very her. Down, down to her waist and hips and around to her back. Supple and svelte, never thin. Just the thought made his fingers itch, his palms burn for the touch of her skin. And further down still, into those stunning legs, always covered in skirts and boots. The urge to touch grew painful. Just thinking of her began to hurt, a name that sang through muscle and tendon.

Her biker gear and fencing uniform did her an undeniable justice, and her uniform always mixed authoritative and sexy at once, but what would she look like just wearing her skin?

He could find out. No need for wondering when the answers were within reach.

Why was he waiting? She was right there, getting ready. She’d be out soon. He’d have his chance. And she liked him too, right? She wouldn’t have disarmed him in fencing that way, held against him like a lover, if she didn’t. She’d been watching him all this time. And what good did waiting do him? Or holding back?

The shower had to come to an end soon. She’d been in there for a good long while. And when she came out? Should he do it?

Why should he not?

He shuddered one last time, his walls falling at last. Why had he fought this in the first place? It was what he wanted. What they both wanted. So there was nothing wrong with it.

~There you go. There’s no need to struggle.~

He leaned against the wall to collect himself, his palms sticking to the surface from the heavy air and his own sweat. He headed towards the door, anticipation rising as his excuses died off, one by one. A few steps forward, then a few more. The shower became loud in his ears, the impact of the water hitting her body then draining away soothing in its steady stream, invigorating in its promises. There she was. Her silhouette hazy against the glass, but he could still make it out. Strange lighting. You’d think the bulbs would be between the door and the shower, not at the back of the room. The closer he got, the clearer the image became. He let out a heavy breath, releasing his concerns as he took another step.

His eyes locked on her shoulder. And his feet froze into place.

With a moment of lucidity, he scrabbled and scraped for control and took in what was before him. Not what he thought was there, or what he was told would be, but what actually was. He looked to the silhouette’s back, then head, then far shoulder, what little he could see of it. A missing detail wasn’t there. And he dug his too-long nails into the flesh of his palm as hard as he could. The pain was enough to give him some focus, so he bit the inside of his mouth until he tasted blood.

~What is it? Are you scared again?~

The voice wasn’t in his head this time, but coming from the room. Minato opened his jaw enough to break out in a snarl, turning to the full-body mirror across the room.

And the distorted reflection of himself that greeted him. The image was warped, and stayed the same size as he walked toward it, shaking off the drugging effects of a moment before. Replaced with raw fury. While he felt murder rising in his chest, the reflection maintained a lopsided smirk. The thought of it laughing at him twisted the anger in him like a coil, over-torqued and ready to snap. That it got so many things about him wrong only pissed him off more. The thing’s clothes were pristine, but the skin was sallow and waxy, and while the hair was a perfect match to one of Minato’s better days, its eyes were sickly with bags under them and ruptured veins under the surface. It was like putting clothes and a wig on a corpse and parading it around on puppet strings.

“That’s not Mitsuru-senpai,” he told the reflection, voice laced with a wrath that came from his very core. Of course. What else could have stifled his Personas when he himself couldn’t do it? He was angry at being duped, but he was furious with himself for being so careless. “Her hair’s longer than that. You got it completely wrong.”

~And why is that a bad thing? This is what you wanted. Who it is with should be immaterial.~

It was barely a voice now. The rapid chattering and clacking like beetles in his brain returned, much stronger than before. A second Shadow, like when they’d gone to rescue Fuuka. Only the first one was bait for the trap, and the menace he felt from the mirror amplified.

This thing had to die. He needed his weapons. He turned the anger inward and screamed inside his own head, calling far into that sea of his subconscious.

He called his Personas, as many as he could, and his body erupted in pained tingles and twisted nerves. They responded. They raged. And the mental maelstrom focused his anger on a set target. His reflection broke into a crooked, mocking smile that he knew he wasn’t wearing, and the fury intensified. The pain tripled. And his mind cleared.

“If you have to ask that question, then you wouldn’t understand the answer.”

His left hand, almost bleeding from the pressure he was putting on it, lashed out at the mirror. And it shattered, bowing and cracking and bending at the frames like struck with a colossal fist, filling the room with the sound of broken glass and drywall.

“I’m coming for you. And I hope there’s more to you than cheap tricks, because they won’t work this time.”

There was no response from the mirror, and the chattering grew distant, retreating from the room.

Minato snorted. Coward.

He turned, steadying his feet as he fought with the migraine born from the Shadow’s visions and all his Personas waking up at once. It was enough to make him stagger back toward the bathroom. The shower was still running, so maybe he could wash his face. Some cold water would go perfectly now.

Before he got to the door, however, it flew open. And two wild eyes stared at him from a room filled with steam.

He stopped in place, taking in a lot of skin and leg and… pink. “Yukari?”

“Coming for me? What do you mean? What just happened?”

He could barely process her questions before he asked one of his own. “Why are you taking a shower?”

She darted forward and slapped him. Hard. Enough to snap his head to the side and send the world rushing by, which didn’t help his throbbing cranium in the least. Then the door slammed as she bolted back inside. There was rustling and some frantic movements behind the glass, and she emerged in a matter of seconds, full dressed and armed and looking ready to kill.

Why was she looking at him like that? And why couldn’t she move that fast at the dorm? Let’s just go,” she snapped, marching for the door.

Minato tried to ignore his badly bruised palm and throbbing skull, and kept silent as they left the room and focused on finding the others and the Shadow. Whatever it had shown him was an illusion, painful and raw as the thought was, so he was determined to finish the job and get back to the dorm so he could sleep it all off. That was what he wanted. That was what he told her.

Regardless of how he said it and how many times, however, she remained unconvinced. When she wasn’t discretely tugging her clothes back into place, now wet from being frantically pulled back on, she was staring at him suspiciously. He stayed on his side of the hallway, claiming it was to leave her with a clear field of fire if something jumped around the corner. It didn’t matter though. If that happened, he’d have to cover her. That was the strategy, regardless of how she felt. And how she felt was still an issue, because she was glaring at him like he’d been the one to strip her and point her to the shower, and smacked her ass on the way in.

“It’s not how it seems. I wasn’t talking to you,” he told her again, trying to sound more sincere than usual, which wasn’t easy, while checking the corners.

She was less than convinced. “If it wasn’t me, then who was it? You weren’t fighting, and our senpai weren’t here, right?”

He sighed, motioning for her to lower her voice for the third time before giving her a cutting stare. “I’m not the only one at fault here, you know. We’re in the middle of the Dark Hour, here to kill a massive Shadow, so why were you taking a shower? I thought you had one before we left.”

Now she turned a rather fetching shade of red that had nothing to do with the hot water. “Th–that’s not important! I thought you were talking to me, and then you were right at the door when I came out! So what’s the deal?”

Minato massaged his temples, trying to gain some relief. To no avail. “You answer my question, I’ll answer yours. Talking to an empty room’s less incriminating than deciding the try out the house soaps and shampoos.”

She held her hands up in denial. “I– That’s not– it wasn’t like that!”

“Right. Same as my being near the door when you came out. It wasn’t like that.”

“That’s different,” she insisted.

He snorted, his temper fraying down to a thread. “If you say so.”

“And you can cut the sarcasm any time, too,” she growled. “None of this is funny.”

“You don’t see me laughing, do you? And I’ll talk seriously when you calm the hell down.” She drew back from a retort, but he pinned her to the wall with a hardened, pain-fuelled glare. “Drop it. It’s not important. What matters isn’t your pride or my motives. Finding the others is our first priority. Because if that thing had us fooled this badly, then the others could be in trouble. And that matters more than me or you.” He kept up the glare until she bit her lip and nodded back, glaring back a little. “Good. Then let’s get going.”

They continued down the corridor, still on their respective sides, but not as stiff and suspicious as before. They hadn’t gone far when they heard a scream of agony, shrill like nothing human vocals could produce, and the heavy scent of burnt tar and stagnant sewage water. Minato never knew why Shadows smelled that way, but the scent was another layer of agony on his senses. He held his sabre at the ready and heard Yukari nock an arrow. The hallway, what they could see of it, sported slashes on the halls and long burn marks that, when Minato reached out, were hot to the touch. They continued down the corridor and heard vicious swearing and laboured breathing.

When they turned the corner, Junpei’s eyes snapped up to theirs, sword at the ready and armour torn in four places. There was a thin red trickle behind him, leading down the hall. And his dark-blue shirt was a wet purple now. Minato met his gaze calmly and reached for some spare bandages, taking in the scent of blood that was almost stronger than the perfume in the halls, but Junpei looked away with a grimace. “You an’ Yuka-tan, huh?”

Minato’s hands froze on the emergency supplies, but Yukari either didn’t hear Junpei or didn’t care about his gripes, and moved forward with her Evoker to stop the bleeding. A gunshot and a supernatural glow later, Junpei gritted his teeth and pushed himself to his feet. His face was pale and he was puffing noticeably, sweat streaking his face, but his sword and Evoker were steady. “Thought I heard the others down the hall, but it was a trap. Damn things got the drop on me. Where the hell’ve you two been?”

Yukari blushed and looked away, but Minato took a guarded glance around, making sure Junpei wasn’t bait for another ambush, before answering. “The Shadow’s playing with our minds. Or at least it was with us. Did anything like that happen to you?”

“Not really,” was the reply as he steadied himself and held onto the wall. “Just woke up in the kitchen with a Shadow that got to the knife drawer before I did.”

Minato winced. That would explain the blood. And being stuck in tight quarters would have been difficult for him, let alone Junpei and his over-sized sword. “That’s rough. I’m impressed you made it this far.”

Junpei snorted, not looking at either of them. “Impressed? Why, think I couldn’t handle it?”

Minato’s migraine was getting worse. And healing from his Personas wouldn’t help. It never did. “That’s not what I meant. It couldn’t have been easy getting this far on your own.”

“Yeah, right. So you and Yuka-tan ended up together, huh? Anything else?”

He tried keeping his voice steady and low. “What are you talking about, Junpei?”

Junpei pointed back the way they came from. “I’m pretty sure there’s just bedrooms back that way. What happened?”

“Are you serious?!” Yukari demanded, scarlet in the low light with indignation and embarrassment clear on her face.

Minato’s eyes narrowed. First Yukari, now Junpei. He didn’t need this. He really didn’t need this. “I’m not discussing this right now. Get it together and let’s go.”

He didn’t take the hint. Junpei jutted his chin out and demanded “Oh yeah? Why? C’mon and tell me if it’s no big deal.”

That last thread snapped. He took two steps forward, almost against Junpei’s face. “We woke up in a room with mirrors on the walls and a closet full of sex toys, and thanks for asking! The Shadow was in there with us, so it tried to screw us both when we came to!” He let the words hang between them for a moment, ignoring Yukari’s wide eyes and nuclear blush. “And there was a pommel horse in the corner with clamps and lubricant right next to it! Is that good enough?!”

Junpei’s anger died off, burnt out by his blush and awkwardness from such a frank answer. “I… Yeah. You didn’t have to take it so personally, you know.”

Minato pulled back in anger and disgust, the throbbing even worse. “If you don’t like how I put it, then you can lose the attitude. Let’s find our senpai and finish this before the Shadow collapses the building on us.”

“Is there a problem?” The three turned to see Akihiko-senpai and Mitsuru-senpai approaching, both looking concerned but unharmed, and cleaner than their kouhai. Except for Yukari, maybe.

“I thought I heard arguing,” Mitsuru-senpai told them, sword and Evoker at the ready. In spite of his anger, regardless of how much pain he was in, the combination reminded Minato of the memories and illusions, and he bit his tongue to keep his blush down. “You’ve chosen an odd place for it, if that’s the case.”

“Just clearing the air, Senpai,” Minato replied, trying to save some face. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

“Same here,” Akihiko-senpai told them, resting a fist on his belt. “Fuuka contacted us. She knows which area the Shadow’s in, but can’t pinpoint it.”

“Then let’s finish this and go home,” Minato told them.

“Are you sure? Is everything alright here?” Mitsuru-senpai looked at them, particularly Junpei.

Minato nodded. “As good as it can be.”

Akihiko-senpai looked between them, skepticism obvious on his face, but then he shrugged. “Alright, if you say so. Let’s get to it, then.”

The three kouhai followed their senpai, carefully watching the corners and fighting off Shadows when they crashed out of rooms. Minato was content to let them do the fighting and save his energy, and Yukari nudged up next to him and whispered “Thanks. For not saying anything,” when Junpei and their senpai were checking an especially luxurious room.

At least she was whispering. It kept the pulses in his skull down. “No problem. It didn’t concern them, and it was the Shadow’s fault.”

“Still. Thanks. And I’m sorry I hit you. You look like you’re in a lot of pain.”

Minato tried not to think about it, but he was glad that the Shadows hadn’t gone easy on them. The bruises and burns all across his body hid the telltale mark of Yukari’s hand on his cheek. Confused or not, separated or together, the others would have wondered about that. As it was, they had no reason to ask, sparing them both some embarrassing questions. Then the door opened as the others came out, disgust obvious on their faces. “This is taking too long.” Akihiko-senpai growled. “Where did it go?”

“Any idea what happens to one of these things when the Dark Hour ends?” Minato asked, looking down the hall to the to the doors they hadn’t tried yet.

“Maybe it stays here. Maybe it disappears. But if we fight it when people can see and hear us, it’s going to make things a lot harder. So let’s make this fast,” was the boxer’s response.

They searched four more rooms with similar results, Fuuka’s directions getting more vague as frustration and doubt laced her voice. The tension grew, and Minato’s head throbbed with the Shadow’s constant chattering. He’d tried to listen for places where the noise was strongest, but the Shadow must have anticipated that, because it was uniform no matter where they went.

They’d checked most of the bedrooms, and were heading to the last one, an inconspicuous one in the corner, when Minato stopped in place, so fast that Junpei walked into him from behind. “Wha– dude, what’s your problem? Why’d you stop?”

The words and impact did nothing for his headache, but he stared at a door so inconspicuous that they could have passed a dozen others like it without a second thought. It was simple, plain, and looked like it led to a broom closet or a storage room. There was no logical reason to investigate it when Fuuka was still looking for their target. But his instincts were whispering, and he couldn’t help but listen.

“Minato-kun?” Yukari asked, calling for their senpai to stop. “What’s wrong?”

He reached out to test the handle. The moment his fingers touched the worn plastic, the chattering stopped and retreated again, dying down to whispers that echoed from past the door. And a very familiar feeling brushed against his face. “The Shadow on the train was waiting for us,” he explained quietly, staring at the cheap laminate surface and fake wood in front of him. “Same as the last two. They wanted Fuuka, so they kept us off-balance. This one’s a coward that hides behind illusions and lies. It used the other Shadow as bait so it wouldn’t have to face us. What better place to hole up than in a room nobody would think to look in?”

“Shadows are huge,” Junpei pointed out. “At least these ones are. And that door’s what they put on linen closets. How would it fit in there?”

Minato ignored him and pulled out his Evoker, twisting the handle and peering through as he cracked the door open.

The door snapped open, pushed by the wave of power only a Shadow could radiate. He jumped back, ready for anything, and gritted his teeth when the chattering in his brain returned. More than just the power was the sickening jumble of scents from before. It bowled over him and flowed into the hallway like a river, driving grunts and disgusted cries from the others. Minato pulled his Evoker free and covered his mouth and nose with a spare kerchief, forcing his eyes to adjust to the gloom within.

What lay beyond wasn’t a linen closet or shelves lined with cleaners. But a wide, luxurious room with gaudy pink plush carpeting, mirrors on the ceiling and every wall, and absolutely atrocious striped drapes and cushions surrounding the couches and divans scattered about. Minato cringed at the visual mayhem. It was designed for groups or specific events, and clearly ‘privacy’ was left at the door. One could see every corner of the room from anywhere else, and he focused on keeping those implications from his mind. All the mirrors, however, were directed toward the huge four-poster bed in the middle of the room.

And sitting in the middle of that bed, steeping in its own power as the haze cleared, was their target. Jiggling and rocking like a mutated bowl of Jell-O, the heart symbol quivering and cracked at the sides, and the expressionless mannequin’s mask that stared at him from on high. A mask that felt like it was laughing the moment he saw it.

The others pushed in and Mitsuru-senpai immediately gave them orders. Minato didn’t notice. His hands were shaking, rattling his Evoker, as he felt the Shadow’s mind brush against his own. And there was no question now – it really was laughing at him.

~Ahh, so you found her. What was she doing, by chance?~

Never mind running hot, Minato’s blood cooked him from the inside. It was hitting the evaporation point. The grip of his Evoker bit into his hand, Personas screaming in his brain as he envisioned his prey ripped to pieces, a storm of power stewing and swirling under the surface. The migraine grew worse, but his teeth were clenched so hard that his jaw hurt. And the chattering returned, pulsing and rising and falling like the cadence of laughter.

~You know, don’t you? About her and the other one. So much time together. So many opportunities. Who would pass up such a chance? Perhaps a shower was involved. They even had a bed, you know.~

“Laugh this one off,” he grated, burning with a rage so hot he expected to combust. His Personas were clawing at his skin, demanding their release. They agreed with him, with the thought screaming in his head, over and over, so loud he didn’t hear the others shouting commands or tactics. They wanted to make it happen as much as he did.

He didn’t bother with style. Looking cool could wait.

He brought his Evoker straight up to his temple. Then pulled the trigger.

And ripped the room apart.

 

* * *

 

“Could have gone worse,” Akihiko-senpai muttered as they made their way out the front entrance, going slowly so Minato, draped over his shoulder, didn’t puke all over him. As it was, it took all his passenger’s effort to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

The fight with the Shadow had gone well, in the sense that they were the ones still standing in the end. But it couldn’t, by any standards, have been called smooth. Not with Minato tearing the room apart in the opening salvo and quivering with rage the entire fight, not even bothering to draw his sword. Junpei had been reckless, charging the Shadow from the same side over and over and disregarding the others. Only Yukari and their senpai had kept cool heads through the engagement, and that was probably because they felt it was better to eliminate the threat quickly and deal with stupidity later than risk injury or death against a Shadow of that size.

“All’s well that ends well, right?” Fuuka put in as she met them, handing them some cold water bottles and dabbing at her face. Her bandana was soaked and there were sweat streaks on her forehead and cheeks and hands. Fighting against the Shadow’s illusions couldn’t have been easy, but she’d had to keep track of all five of them on top of that. No wonder she looked like she’d gone swimming in her clothes.

Minato pulled his arm back as they stopped, wiping his face and downing half a bottle of water along with some pain killers he’d brought along on a whim. That much cold water in a hot body, still coming off an adrenaline rush, wasn’t good for him. He knew it, like every other athletic student on campus. He just didn’t care. It was better than his head exploding, or decorating the sidewalk with his dinner, snacks and lunch. He leaned against the building walls, content to rest his face against dirt and grime until the world steadied.

“How badly are you hurt, Minato-kun?” Fuuka asked, resting a solicitous hand on his arm. He would have smiled if he wasn’t sure the act would have shattered his face like that mirror in the room. Her gesture was touching, but if he fell over, the best she could do was get out of the way. Or break his fall to the pavement.

“I’ll live,” he replied in a raspy whisper, wincing at his own voice. “No injuries. Raw nerves and a killer migraine are the worst of it.”

She winced, and he got the impression that her scanning wasn’t as easy as she made it seem. He handed her the pill bottle, and she swallowed a few tablets after mulling it over. “Thanks. Those are still pretty bad though. Especially if you were fighting like that.”

He just gave her the best smile he could, which felt like a grimace. So much for not letting her worry about him. “That’s what the drugs are for.”

“Well just don’t push it,” Yukari told him, eyeing him with concern. “You seemed like you were in rough shape before we found that thing. We don’t need you breaking something important.”

Like his mind. That would be bad. “I appreciate the concern.”

There was a cold snort from further up the sidewalk. “So that’s it, huh? So long as our leader’s fine, then it’ll all work out?”

Minato’s eyes narrowed at Junpei’s tone. He’d been brushing it off before to focus on the operation. But his brains felt like beef stew in a blender, and he was hardly in the mood to be made fun of. “Is there something you want to say to me?”

Dark eyes met his without flinching, and the brittle anger was obvious in them, cracking under the weight of something larger. Something worse.“Pfft. What, me? Talk to the leader? No way man, I’m just the grunt.”

Minato’s Personas whirled through him at his comrade’s tone, and he had to grit his teeth to keep them back and his stomach down. A month of work and stress paired with weeks of biting his tongue to keep the team operating smoothly snapped the chains on his temper. The choked-off anger rose like bile and brought all the words back, harsh as hot irons and acid.

They were lost a second later, when the world shuddered and shifted and settled back to its normal state. Traffic resumed around them, the streetlights flashed to life, and they all winced as their task was, for another night, complete.

“This isn’t the place for arguments,” Akihiko-senpai told them in a hard voice, taking the opportunity and stepping between them with a glare. “Tonight might not have gone perfectly, but we managed. The situation changed, and we dealt with it. Let’s call it a night while we can still walk.”

“Is this something we can leave alone?” Minato asked, not bothering to keep his voice down.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Junpei snapped.

Minato sighed before pushing himself off the wall and meeting the angry glare with a pained stare. “I mean that attitude of yours. Not just tonight, but for the last few weeks. You’re fighting on your own, not working with us, and getting reckless. What we need is to work together, not in spite of each other, and I don’t want to see you get hurt. So if you have a problem with something, with me, then let’s hear it.”

Junpei’s face turned dark, but his retort was cut off by the others. None said a word, but none needed to. The calm gaze of their senpai, Yukari’s inquisitive look that said ‘I don’t disagree,’ and Fuuka trying to look elsewhere, but obviously sharing the general sentiment. His eyes narrowed and he shouldered his sword, but some of the fight had left him. “Whatever. Just mind your own business,” he growled before turning around and heading down the street to their pickup point.

“We’ll have to deal with that before too long,” Minato murmured, leaning on his sword for support. “We can’t afford a schism right now.”

“I concur,” Mitsuru-senpai responded, a troubled look on her clean, flawless face. “But there’s nothing we can do about it right now. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“No,” Minato told her honestly. “I feel like I want to die in a corner, and there’s two of everything. But it can’t be helped right now.”

She looked concerned and approached until he held up a hand to stop her. “Then let’s go back,” she told him, turning to the others. “We won’t get anywhere making decisions when we can barely stand. Debriefing can wait until tomorrow – your first priority is to try to get some rest.”

“I second that,” Yukari said with a groan and a sideways glance at Minato. She blushed a bit before walking forward with Fuuka. “Will you be okay, Minato-kun?”

“Yeah. I just need a few minutes to let the drugs settle.”

Yukari and Fuuka left first, talking about something the latter had found. Minato watched them go, curious about what could garner such a swift reaction so soon after the operation. Considering how close they were walking, it must have been important. Or personal. Probably both. Mitsuru-senpai was next, talking into her cell phone in a hushed tone, and shooting him concerned looks over her shoulder. Minato couldn’t help the red that rose to his cheeks as he watched her go. Had the Shadow’s visions been illusions and lies? He didn’t have a reason to believe that she felt that way about him. It was far more likely that the Shadow had just latched onto a vulnerable part of his mind. He’d told Fuuka that she reminded him of Minako, after all, and Yukari was… well, the idea of hooking up with her felt like navigating a minefield with a blindfold and a spare shoe. They worked fine together, and she was a friend, but he couldn’t see them clicking. No vulnerability with hose two – no weak links in the chain.

Mitsuru-senpai was different. No matter how much he justified it or how hard he beat his feelings with the rationale that the Shadow was showing him lies, they refused to stay down. Even if he resisted the idea that what he’d seen was true, it still left room for doubt. For curiosity. Lies or not, they raised questions.

How did she feel about him? Where did he stand with Kirijo Mitsuru?

“Hey,” Akihiko-senpai asked, walking over to take a closer look at his face. “Will you need a hand getting to the car? You look like death warmed over.”

Minato’s migraine throbbed as a new thought, one he’d been putting off while they were fighting, crawled and wormed its way to his attention: What had Mitsuru-senpai and Akihiko-senpai been doing while the rest of them were distracted? Had there been illusions for them as well? They were strong with their Personas, so would that have made a difference? The two were clearly friends, and had been for years, so maybe there was less to show them, and less room for deception. But were they just friends? If so, where did that put him? He was just the transfer student, the anomaly. Did he have the right to interfere with such a relationship if it existed? Akihiko-senpai’s answers the other day had been evasive, and Minato had no idea how to raise the topic with Mitsuru-senpai.

He brushed the questions aside for now, but he knew they’d be back. He turned to his comrade and nodded once. “Thanks for the concern, Akihiko-senpai. I’ll be alright once I have a few minutes to take it easy.”

“If you say so. We’ll be waiting, so don’t take too long.” Akihiko-senpai gave him a wave before following the others, his steps balanced and quiet in the night.

Minato watched him go for several minutes before giving a sigh. Mitsuru-senpai was right; whatever other concerns there were, they could wait until morning. After a good breakfast and a nice, long shower before Yukari woke up. He trudged forward, stepping carefully so he didn’t trip.

He had barely gone six steps when it hit.

His spine snapped taut and his breath hissed through his teeth, so fast his nausea hit again. But he ignored it, looking around sharply with a hand on his sword. Left, then right. Up, and down, and along the street, and down the nearby alley and past the closed storefronts. Nothing.

He waited, still alert as the feeling passed. A fat black-and-tan cat walked along the road nearby, looking at him with black eyes before moving on disinterestedly. He looked around again, not seeing anything. But the unease remained in the pit of his stomach, a chill up his spine and cold knife-points across his heated skin. It was the same feeling that had been trained into him during his kendo and fencing lessons. His Personas made it stronger, and he knew not to ignore his instincts. When nothing appeared, he headed down the street, hand close to his hilt. He didn’t let the tense breath out until he was in the Kirijo car and on the way back to the dorm. And then he stared out the window and watched the dark rooftops for anything out of the ordinary.

Even through the Dark Hour and feeling like a cat in a washing machine on the spin cycle, he knew when he was being watched.

 

* * *

 

“Hm. Gotta give him credit; he’s pretty sharp. Sanada and Kirijo I’d expect, but Arisato’s proving to be an interesting guy.”

“Did you feel it as well?” There was a shiver in the lower voice that wouldn’t have been out of place in a funeral home where the workers had an unhealthy enthusiasm for their jobs. A grim but pronounced thrill so chilling that it could have scared the crows away from a battlefield.

There had been a split second of power in the hotel, a spike that rippled through the Dark Hour. Too brief to identify, but too strong to miss. Then there was the tempest of power only ten minutes before, a raging hurricane of unbridled energy that had left their ears ringing. But the two were different. Distinct. And that dissimilarity wasn’t lost on Shirato Jin. “Yeah. Not sure what I’d call it, but I’ll look for a precedent. Regarding how to deal with them, I think our first target should be Yamagishi. The Kirijo files don’t mention a detector at her level, or anywhere close to it. If she dies, they’re screwed.”

When his comrade didn’t respond, he went down the list of the others, citing their strengths and weaknesses and what he’d learned of them.

Jin didn’t understand though. They weren’t the important ones. Strong, perhaps. Formidable, maybe. But not important. Only one among them held that accolade.

Takaya’s mind was breaking off the rust of months of contract killings and dull routine, awakening with a new vigor that hadn’t been there for years. Like a poet in the thrall of Melpomene, alive with divine inspiration. And it was because of him. A new piece on the board, an unknown variable in the equation, this Arisato showed far more promise than anyone he’d seen or heard of. Who was he? What was he? First Hypnos, now Moros, wary as Jin was to admit to such things. It was a rousing little mystery. Since when did Personas react to each other? Aragaki had mentioned it before, how his and Sanada’s powers seemed to synch well. But among strangers? He doubted even the Kirijo could explain that.

So many unanswered questions. So many possibilities. Just the memory of that power spike sent a pleasure through him intense enough to make him shudder.

Jin tried to bring him back to the practical side of their observations. “We could get the drop on them now. No one’s more vulnerable than when they think they’ve won.” There was no need to answer. Was it possible for the others to understand his importance? Could it even be communicated in words? Perhaps. Perhaps not. He focused and tried to see Arisato again, but he was gone. “Or should we leave them alone?”

“Yes.”

Takaya felt Jin’s surprise. The delight of the possibilities, of Hypnos’ whispers, brought every muscle and cell alive. Decay from the Dark Hour still in his nose, the promise of the hunt, the thrill, the inertia of events heavy against him like bags filled with blood… It was almost too much to take. His arms prickled in comforting agony, tattoos igniting and shifting across naked nerves, warm with a jagged pain that honed the mind.

A dead voice rattling in its coffin, an echo grating within an ancient tomb. Unholy light in his eyes that burned brighter than the full moon above them.

“Leave them. No game of chess can be won without pawns. And this is becoming a very interesting match.”


	5. Supination

One, two, three, four, five, six. Turn.

One, two, three, four, five, six. Turn.

Minato sighed again, and he’d since lost count of how many of those he’d given, before turning an annoyed stare at the phantasmal door of the Velvet Room at the mall. He had no problem taking Elizabeth out to see the world, and he’d told her as much. But he took exception to waiting for close to an hour for her to ‘assemble more fitting attire.’ How long did a girl need to get ready for a trip to the mall?

“Thank you for your patience,” he heard, finally, from the door.

When he turned to address her, his feet stopped in place and his eyes widened. From her uniform and hat and boots to…

“Do I meet your expectations? This will suffice as camouflage in your world, will it not?” Elizabeth asked, spreading her arms so he could judge.

Denim. Leather. And lots of both. Her blue boots were replaced with a fashionable pair of women’s boots with sensible heels, above which were black stockings despite being the end of July. Denim skirt, a pale yellow tank top and denim vest under a tailored lady’s leather jacket. And her hat was gone entirely. Instead his eyes were drawn to a slender pair of half-rim glasses perched perfectly on her nose.

“Glasses,” he said finally. “I didn’t know you needed them, but I guess if you’re always reading that book in the dark like that, it makes sense.”

She chuckled, holding a hand to her lips. “No, no, I don’t need them. My eyes are perfect.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Then why wear them?”

“I’ve never had the opportunity, so I wanted to experience them,” was her reply, enthusiasm unmistakable in her voice. “And proper camouflage allows for no flaws or weaknesses.”

Minato scratched the side of his cheek, trying to see how dressing like a rich American tourist was considered camouflage, but gave up after a moment. “Well, the look suits you. You shouldn’t stand out as much this way.”

She smiled, lighting up her pale eyes. “I am grateful for your kind assessment. The first step in our afternoon has been a resounding success. Onto the next, yes?”

“Right. But I wanted to ask you something before we get too carried away. Something about the Shadows.”

“Of course, of course. But, onward – there are challenges to be met and trials to overcome.”

He was about to tell her that his world was only dangerous during the Dark Hour, but she swept past him and into the light of Paulownia Mall. And if he was hoping for a measure of discretion or privacy, such wishes were dashed immediately when he met the eyes of a gaggle of the school’s most garrulous chatterboxes coming out of the jewelry store. Elizabeth had stopped next to him, looking at the expansive space like a food connoisseur at the buffet table, entirely without personal reservation. Minato turned from his classmates without a greeting or a word, hoping that a cold shoulder would deter them from inquiring about the woman whose ‘camouflage’ made her stand out against the crowds of salarymen and students and shopkeepers. The moment she spoke, that optimism suffered a swift and sudden demise.

“Arisato-sama, where should we start?” she asked, looking at the café with undisguised curiousity.

Sama? Minato put a finger to his forehead, trying to pretend that his classmates weren’t humming like a waking bee hive. “Well, we can go wherever you like,” he replied as calmly as he could, stepping up to her side and trying for a respectful distance. “I forgot to ask, Elizabeth, where did you get those clothes? They’re pretty different from what you’re usually in.” There. A nice, harmless question. No way someone could misinterpret that.

“You bought them,” she informed him, utterly ignorant to the girls nearby. “Rather, the fees for my services did. I hope you find them pleasing – if my wearing something else would arouse your interest more, please tell me at once.”

He bit back a sigh and cringed when he heard the students fall utterly silent behind him. “I… I see,” he replied a bit weakly. “Well, those suit you fine. But, which shops did you want to visit first?”

None of them, it seemed. Instead she was quite taken with the fountains. He wouldn’t have phrased it as ‘making sport of water,’ but the phrase did suit her. And it was hard to get into trouble with fountains, after all. No room for spectacle or misunderstandings.

Until the words ‘I shall make an opening bid to the fountain spirit of one million yen’ cut all nearby conversation off like a mute button, and she produced a coin purse that probably… couldn’t…

As the coins tumbled down and hit the water like rain, Minato stared and resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. He’d thought she was kidding. He really did. There was no way she could have that amount of money – Igor didn’t charge for fusing Personas, and Minato hadn’t spent anywhere near that much for Elizabeth’s services. Luckily, her excessive donation was interrupted when she stopped to consider her wish, and he got a word in edgewise. “About that question I had – it’s regarding the things my friends and I have been running into on the nights when the moon is full.” He spoke quietly, hoping desperately that she would be subtle about his nocturnal activities as he took her elbow and led her away from the fountain, not wanting to consider the implications of drowning-by-money-donation and how that would sound to the cops.

Elizabeth’s eyes lit up behind her glasses. “Ahh, of course. What manner of information did you require?”

Finally, he had her attention. “Specifics would be nice. I ran into something that I’d like some insight on.”

“And I am uniquely suited to provide such insight,” she finished for him. “Of course. But, what is that building over there?” And off she went again.

Minato took a bracing breath and turned to catch a pair of students, maybe in his grade, staring after her. Only there was no way they could see her back with their eyes that low. He felt his temper flash and gave a sharp ‘Psst!’ and a jerk of his head with hard eyes, telling them to get lost. One of them narrowed his eyes and squared his shoulders, but the other grabbed his friend and pulled back. “Don’t! That’s Arisato!” he whispered harshly. “He took on the whole kendo team at once and won, and if that’s his woman, then don’t go near her.” And before Minato could correct them, they’d skittered away to the backdrop of people pawing at the fountain’s surface and pushing each other out of the way.

“Arisato-sama!” Elizabeth called from the police station. “I have an inquiry.”

“Of course,” he replied, striding over and noting the girls from before edging closer, despite his cold looks. As he walked up, he appreciated that the denim skirt she’d chosen suited her figure quite well, and made a mental note to ask her to wear something inconspicuous next time. “I need to know about the nature of those things, Elizabeth,” he told her quietly as she looked at the wanted posters. “The second one in the hotel, in particular, and how it could do what it did to us.”

She curbed her enthusiasm enough to reply. “Are you familiar with the Major Arcana? They are central to your tarot cards, I believe.”

He nodded, stepping closer so they wouldn’t be overheard. “I’ve heard of them. The cards represent the path one can take in life and different aspects of people and their personalities.”

“That is correct. Simply put, the creature you fought before was aligned with the Lovers Arcana. Its nature was to read and manipulate emotions with what those around it felt. Particularly deep secrets and feelings.”

Minato braced himself, feeling nauseous from the memory of the thing but wanting answers more. “It showed me some… visions, I guess you could call them, or illusions. About someone on my team. I’m not sure if what it was showing me was true or not, but if it represented the Lovers, then does that mean what I saw was accurate?”

She gave a thoughtful frown, tapping her cheek for a moment. “Not precisely, no. On the occasion that the Lovers card is upright, it represents persons in balance. If it is reversed, the balance is lost to careless gratification and the absence of understanding. It leaves no room for the emotional facets of the relationship. If the visions were focused on the superficial traits of your partner, then it is likely that the Shadow was showing you what it could: the base feelings, lusts and desires, but not emotions. It would not comprehend those.”

Minato frowned thoughtfully . That made sense; the visions had been focused on what Mitsuru-senpai liked about him as a male, as an asset, but there was no mention of any deeper feelings.

“Ahh, is that, by chance, what you call a ’club’? I wish to partake in it!” She strode off again, and this time he kept close to her so she wouldn’t have to speak quite so loudly. “You should know, Arisato-sama,” she began, blind to the injured look he gave at the appellation, “on the next occasion that you require my services, they will be at a most reasonable discount. It is the least I can do for today.”

“Of course,” he replied, trying not to care about the gaggle of gossips that talked among themselves even more at her words.

“Discount?!” one of them hoarsely whispered. “What sorts of services is she offering him?”

“Do you think Senpai knows about her?” another asked. “What about Takeba-san?”

Minato focused on his guest, determined to let the pieces fall where they would. They were leaving for Yakushima soon, and rumours weren’t likely to survive exams and the summer. And he was busily turning an old question over in his mind, trying to apply what he’d learned and getting only curiousity and frustration in return. If the Shadow’s visions were lies and conveniences used to deceive him, then he was no further ahead than before. Still, he wondered: what did Kirijo Mitsuru think of Arisato Minato?

 

* * *

 

“Adequate.” Not perfect, but quite adequate given what she expected.

Mitsuru finished unpacking her bags and opening the windows, letting the scent of the sea into the room she’d taken as hers since she was six years old. Waves, a clear blue sky, and the gleam of sand like a fortune in gold, it all wrapped around her like a robe as familiar as the beautiful rugs and supple bed in her room. Even without her mother, this place was as close to home as she’d ever known. The Kirijo Mansion in Tokyo was larger and where all her father’s business acquaintances met, but it was purely for that reason that the large, luxurious manor felt like a reception hall or work office instead of a place where a family met and ate and actually lived. Her fondest memories were of playing in the waves with her mother and collecting seashells, after all, and not of business dinners.

“Speaking of which,” she murmured to herself, drawing the curtains on her windows shut and ensuring that the door was locked before stepping in front of her full-length mirror and smoothly, deliberately, undressing. First her shoes, which she set by the base of the mirror, then her top and her capris. She breathed and stared at her almost-nude reflection before lowering her gaze and taking in her reflection. Firm shoulders, flat stomach, and she had nothing to complain about with her waist and hips and legs, even when she turned side-face and tried different poses. Despite how the other girls at school complained about their bodies and mourned the need for diets, she was perfectly happy with the shape of her bottom half – strong legs and hips were needed for good trusts and ripostes. Her hands were tougher than during her last visit, and her arms had the muscle tone that she wanted. Excellent for using a sword.

Mitsuru chuckled as she met her own stare. Takeba and others at school had called her a proud person, possibly even vain. But as she looked in the mirror, she could admit that such statements had some merit – she was indeed proud of being in shape like she was. Because what she saw was proof that she hadn’t come any closer to being like Ayasegawa Hikari.

Ayasegawa was the fourth daughter of one of her father’s business associates, and the two had met when Mitsuru was eleven. Unlike Mitsuru, who had been raised on a healthy diet of education and nutritious foods and exercise, Ayasegawa had taken to her parents’ lower expectations and heightened doting with gusto, especially when it involved the dessert tray. Not yet obese when they had met, Ayasegawa took an almost childlike joy in sampling every dish and snack and roll she could. Several times over. By itself that wasn’t enough to offend Mitsuru, nor was Ayasegawa’s nasal voice or condescending attitude toward the servants or the way her clothes seemed tailor-made for her considerable size and yet still didn’t fit right. All these things Mitsuru could forgive or ignore. But the turning point had been when her father had sent them to the third floor for a presentation and she had to endure Ayasegawa huffing and puffing and groaning like a bovine with gastric dilation volvulus directly behind her. Step after step after step, for all 39 stairs, including one landing. And when they arrived, Mitsuru turned around, about to offer a handkerchief to the poor creature. That was when she was confronted with a round, puffy face splotched with red and crimson and more sweat than she’d seen on professional runners. She said nothing. She did nothing, except back away so the girl’s attendants could tend to her.

The image haunted her for the rest of the night, and she dove into research on the best ways to keep fit the next day, begging her parents to find her a proper trainer so she could get and stay in shape. If her reflection was any indication, she noted with a smile, her instructors would be proud.

She fished her bathing suit, sent by her family’s stylists, from her bag and was about to strip naked when she saw herself in the mirror again, and the angle reminded her of something. Setting her two-piece on the nearby chair, she locked her eyes on her breasts and breathed deep, turning her torso as she did. The resulting tug and slight pinch made her grimace. She’d thought that she was done growing, but it seemed that she would need to be fitted for her tops and bras again – what she had would cut into her chest and leave marks on her shoulders if she left it alone, and she’d finally found a dressmaker who sized her just right.

Making a mental note and recalling the woman’s name and address from her mind’s rolodex, she removed her underwear and slipped into her two-piece swimsuit, which had been given extra room to account for her growth. With her sarong knotted and sandals donned, she picked up the phone and called the maid, telling her to bring sunscreen, before she left the room to go over the corners and edges of the hallway with detail that wouldn’t have been out of place for a crime scene investigator.

Yes, the maids had done an adequate job of maintaining the Kirijo beach villa. Her room had the look of a dedicated cleaning, and the halls were presentable. Not perfect, of course, but her father rarely used the villa in its entirety, so the request to prepare for her and six guests was probably unexpected.

“Mitsuru-sama,” a familiar voice called from behind. She turned to see the woman who was as much a part of the villa as the stone of the floor itself, Kato Airi. A loving smile was set in a face that still looked too young for a woman past fifty and with children and grandchildren. And she only had a few more grey hairs than Mitsuru remembered. “It’s been too long, my lady,” she intoned, bowing formally, with eyes full of affection.

“Airi-san, you know better,” Mitsuru chided with a smile, bypassing the bow and hugging the woman warmly. The daughter of servants whose legacy was tending to her family, Airi-san had been an aide and confidante to Mitsuru’s father, a friend to her mother, and as dear as family to Mitsuru herself before and after her mother died. Diligent, sharp, and loyal, she was a rock that everyone else overlooked when admiring the Kirijo family’s stability and knack for organization. “It’s wonderful to see you,” she told her happily.

“But you look more beautiful than ever,” Airi-san commented, turning the young woman this way and that so she could get a proper look. “Yes, perfect. Eimi-sama would be proud of how you’ve turned out.”

Mitsuru smiled, feeling truly home in the woman’s presence. And she was right – Mitsuru owed her hair and skin colour and most of her shape to her mother’s genes. “Set some time aside tonight, Airi-san. We need to catch up.” She closed her eyes as the woman’s hands began spreading sunscreen across her skin, and knew what she was about to say next. “I’ll make it an order if I have to,” she continued knowingly.

There was a pause, the same as always, and a soft chuckle. “As you wish, Mitsuru-sama. It will be a pleasure.”

Once she was properly prepared for a day on the beach, she strode through the halls and down the stairs toward her comrades. When she reached the beach, she saw that Yamagishi and Takeba were already changed and chatting with Arisato and Iori and Akihiko. When they saw her, the girls immediately rushed over to praise her swimsuit, invading her space and setting her back half a step. As she answered their questions, bewildered at the interest, she looked to the other three for help. Akihiko was in the same swimming gear as she’d always seen him in, looking at the buoys in the distance. Iori was more toned than when she’d seen him in gym class, but had the same lankiness to him that she’d noted before. And he was grinning about something, probably at Yamagishi and Takeba and their unrestrained girlishness.

Arisato, however, surprised her. She knew that he was fit from their match in the fencing ring and excursions into Tartarus, and even when they were in the hotel, he was more winded from the air of the place and using his Personas than from being out of shape. She expected him to be fit, but standing there in swimming shorts and laced sandals and wrap-around sunglasses, she could see the clear definition of his pectoral muscles and abs, and his arms had clearly corded lines, similar to Akihiko but still distinct, which led to the strong physique of his torso.

It wasn’t what she expected, and the sight caught her eye, the gushings of the girls falling from her attention for a moment. Mitsuru had heard him argue, when his classmates called him skinny, that his clothes made him look slender. It sounded like an excuse, very unusual from the transfer student who took on any challenge thrown at him and overcame it with his trademark sarcastic smile. Now she could see that he hadn’t been lying – he was actually quite well sculpted.

“Are you going into the water first, Mitsuru-senpai?” Yamagishi inquired, eyes almost as bright as the ocean before them.

“I usually sunbathe first,” she informed her comrade, nodding toward a set of reclining beach chairs and colourful parasols. Akihiko nudged Arisato from behind, saying something she couldn’t hear, and the transfer student turned and glared back, his eyebrows crouching over the rims of his sunglasses. Curious. He didn’t seem the sort to glare, but Akihiko provoked the response without much effort at all. She tilted her head a bit. Nor was he the sort to blush, but his cheeks were distinctly red as he spoke quietly to Akihiko. She’d have to ask about what that was about when she got the chance.

Takeba set her own sunglasses in place and headed, with a wave to them all, toward the large beach house a short distance away, an optimal place for meals given its tiled, sloped roof and wooden base and tables and chairs. Iori followed her, looking for something to get his energy up while Arisato and Yamagishi were talking in quite tones and heading to where they’d left their day bags.

Mitsuru went over to her favourite beach chair and leaned back, warmed by the sun while Akihiko stretched in place and set off for the ocean. She let the tension drift from her, the familiar scent of brine and sunscreen and warm, golden sand carrying away her concerns. It was wonderful to be back; she promised herself she would add more such trips to her future schedules. Tatsumi Port Island was a pleasant place to live and learn, but she had too many memories of this stretch of sand to not indulge in it more. Out of habits from when her mother was still alive, she let the sun’s warmth strip away her worries and set her mind adrift on the ocean tides, tuning into the sights and sounds around her.

Nearby, Yamagishi and Arisato were deep in conversation while building a surprisingly meticulous sand castle. Yamagishi was working on the details of the towers and the moat while Arisato had procured a stick and, to Mitsuru’s amusement, was carefully inserting murder holes. “I’ve never had much reason to try it before,” Yamagishi was saying, “and it’s not like I need to since we have everything we need at or around the dorm, but I’d like to try cooking. I can’t always rely on being near a convenience store, right?”

“Right,” Arisato concurred, looking up from his details only for a second, “and the less you have to count on someone else, the better. Might be you’ll get to university and end up with a roommate who can cook even less than you. That reminds me of a saying I heard one time – women who strive for beauty or money are always in competition with everyone else, and they still need others to help them with the basics. But a woman who can cook well can marry whomever she wants and manage just fine, because everyone has to eat.”

Mitsuru raised an eyebrow at that. Marriage advice hardly seemed like Arisato’s forte, and yet he delivered the line like he was discussing the weather.

Yamagishi seemed as blindsided by his words as she did, and the girl started in place, looking at him with wide eyes. “Ah… Minato-kun, I’m not getting married.”

He continued on undaunted. “Of course not. But if you know how to cook, you can have your choice of who to go out with. One less thing you’ll rely on someone else for. Let me know if you need a taste-tester, by the way.”

“Oh, you don’t mind?”

Arisato waved his free hand dismissively. “Nah. ‘Nako used to do that to me all the time, and our parents were terrible cooks no matter how hard they tried, so I doubt there’s anything you can make that would kill me.”

There was still a strong current of hesitation in Yamagishi’s voice. “Um… that’s not very encouraging.”

“Sorry. I just meant that whatever you make will be fine, so don’t worry about it being good or not. No one starts off perfect at anything, after all.”

“I’ll remember that. Thank you for the offer.”

Volunteering to be a taste-tester for Yamagishi? Mitsuru shook her head and settled back in her chair. Arisato was an unusual one. She chuckled at the thought, since it was sure to be one that most of his class shared, but she followed that idea while she sunned.

For all the mystery around his transfer and appearance in Tatsumi Port Island, he had changed since they had met. He was still dryer than desert sand at school, and kept his thoughts to himself better than a Las Vegas card shark, but watching him do something as mundane as building a sand castle and talk to Yamagishi about cooking told her, better than words, that he’d gotten used to their insane little group. It hadn’t changed his personal habits – even when he was with them, there were clearly things he knew or thought that he kept to himself. But even doing that, he felt like part of the group. He was an exemplary leader in Tartarus, a model student if his test scores were any indication, and was more than reliable with his Student Council responsibilities – it was very refreshing to not work with someone who made a Broadway production out of asking for her opinion on school protocol.

An enigma, that one, she thought with a smile. A mature, dependable, interesting enigma who fought like a cornered shark and adapted to his surroundings better than a fangblenny, even when those surroundings involved being on a runaway train or a dilapidated hotel filled with Shadow-spawned narcotics.

Her thoughts were cut off when she heard the sound of flip-flops approaching, hesitant and slow, and she didn’t need to look up to know who it was. Iori.

“Uh, hey guys. Got a minute?”

“Of course,” Yamagishi replied immediately.

“What’s up?” Arisato asked with none of the tension that had dogged them since their last Shadow operation.

“I… Uh, I just wanted to make sure we were cool. About, y’know, how I snapped at you guys before. It wasn’t personal, and I’m sorry.”

How odd. She hadn’t expected Iori to apologize after he’d been keeping to himself for so long. Around her and Akihiko he’d been awkward and edgy, and Takeba had looked at him with clear exasperation since that night. While his anger had sustained him for the first few days, it seemed to burn its fuel and leave him cold in its absence, which meant keeping to himself whenever he could.

“We talked about it earlier, Junpei,” Arisato replied calmly, and she could imagine the small smile on his face. “We’re cool. Nothing that you need to flog yourself over.”

“You were having a bad time with the Shadows and the changes and exams, weren’t you?” Yamagishi offered.

“Kinda.” Iori didn’t sound convinced, and she could hear his feet shuffling in the sand. “It was… I dunno, just had some personal stuff come up. Reminded me of my old man, and that’s not a good subject. Got to me when it shouldn’t have, I guess.”

“No worries,” Arisato replied, his smile clear in his voice. “We all have rough weeks.”

“And we’re friends,” Yamagishi added brightly. “I’m sure we’ll all need each other’s help at some point, so this was a good experience for us.”

Iori chuckled, his dark mood passing like clouds before the sun. “Yeah. Thank guys. Need a hand?”

“If you’re offering, sure,” Arisato told him after a moment.

Their conversation dwindled into niceties and chatter about school and the recent exams. Junpei discussed the latest rumours, which Yamagishi added to before asking Arisato if he was concerned about the kendo team after his display in the ring. Arisato’s low, cool tone was anything but concerned, and his dry humour helped to put her at ease. A steady anchor, unshaken by whatever storms surrounded him. He might shift and waver, but he never let it uproot him completely.

Mitsuru settled into a lull, for how long she didn’t know, but the sun had moved a few degrees when she heard Arisato call her. She opened her eyes to see not just a sand castle and a moat, but a small settlement nearby complete with streets, houses, several wells and a windmill. Both Iori and Yamagishi looked proud of their accomplishment, and it was easy to see why.

“We’re going to hit the waves now,” Arisato told her, gesturing out to where Akihiko was already doing laps out to the short-distance buoy. “Care to join us?”

She gave a smile and pushed herself up, then glanced at his offered hand. Nothing showed through his dark sunglasses, but his stance was steady and there was nothing dry or mocking about his smile this time. She took his hand and rose to her feet, mildly surprised by the give in his fingers despite the hardened skin of his palm. He stepped back, holding her hand for a moment before letting it go and gesturing toward the ocean where Iori and Yamagishi had been joined by Takeba. When she started towards them, he fell in beside her. Not distant or subservient, and not close and presumptuous. A steady presence at her side that was as welcome as the warm sun on her skin.

Mitsuru smiled at him as they got to the water, and was surrounded by antics and laughter and childishness she wouldn’t have indulged in had she been anywhere else. But she let go of her reservations and just enjoyed herself, thriving in the freedom of it.

 

* * *

 

As wonderful as the day started, that was how trying it became. Barely enough time to finish dessert and they were carted into a beautiful, luxurious lounge that would have been ideal for kicking back and lively conversation if not for the projector screen and grim expressions worn by Mitsuru-senpai and Kirijo-san. And whatever Minato expected, from talking work to an advanced school curriculum to training drills at high noon in full combat gear, it didn’t even scratch the surface.

The nature of the Shadows they’d been facing. The black stain on the Kirijo Group’s history. And the legacy that stretched back before any of them were out of grade school. A legacy that haunted them with malevolent intellect and dripping claws.

To Minato, it was sobering. Conspiracy theories always surrounded huge corporations and their business practices, but to have those theories confirmed, even in ways he wasn’t expecting, made him a bit sick. Akihiko-senpai was a wall more impassive than the ones that made up the room, eyes closed and face turned away from the screen. He said nothing, did nothing, and seemed to be in his own world. Next to him, Junpei was staring at the screen with the same expression he’d worn when Mitsuru-senpai explained the nature of SEES to them at the dorm. Puzzled, analytical, and with growing awe and a touch of horror as the events rolled over him. Fuuka didn’t seem to know what to say, so she threaded and unthreaded and rethreaded her fingers together, not looking at anyone. Mitsuru-senpai was understandably grim and silent as a pall bearer.

Yukari, to no surprise, took the news less quietly than they did. And less well. And less… pretty much everything. Seeing her father hadn’t helped, and Minato was reminded of their discussion at the archery range, how her connection to the Kirijo ‘wasn’t a happy topic.’ Learning the truth in this way, though, was a lot to take in. Too much if her snapping outbursts expressed even a fraction of what she was feeling.

She wouldn’t want someone to stand up to her now. And Minato had no desire to walk into a fight over a situation he was still trying to process. So he turned away from her angry stares and ignored her scathing words, shuffling away from the edge of the couch as she left the room. She wasn’t running, but she may as well have been with the agitation he felt when she passed. He let out a long breath, a gusting wind in the tomb-silent room, and glanced to the side when Mitsuru-senpai rose from her seat.

“Go talk to her. Please,” she told him. She was standing straight and looking at him without reservation, but the way her fingers twitched and tapped on her arms told him she was anything but calm.

Minato shook his head as he looked at her. “I wouldn’t be the best person for that, senpai.”

“Please,” she repeated, but he stood and looked at the door opposite where Yukari had left from.

“I grew up under the care of the Kirijo Group. So far as Yukari’s concerned, I’m only slightly less connected to all this than you or Akihiko-senpai are.” He glanced at her, noticing how the corner of her lips was indented, like she was biting it from the inside. “We just dropped a lot on her, and I don’t think she wants me giving her a pep talk now.” When he got no response, not even from Kirijo-san, he turned to their newest member with neither a grimace nor a smile. “Fuuka. Could you talk to her? Or at least hear her out?”

The girl looked at him, then the rest of them hesitantly only to find that no one would meet her eyes. “Are you sure, Minato-kun? I don’t know her that well.”

“None of us do,” he admitted. “But all of us have some connection or other to this mess, whether it’s to the Group or the Shadows. You’re the odd one out in this case.” It wasn’t technically true – he could have asked Junpei to talk to her. But he foresaw that ending in a fight if Junpei said something wrong or Yukari took her venting too far.

“I… I’ll do my best,” the girl told them after a few long moments, rising uncertainly.

“Sorry to dump it in your lap, but you’re the best one for the job,” he told her, nodding encouragingly. It seemed to work when she nodded in reply and went out the same door as their teammate. When the door closed, Minato sat on the arm of the couch and began rubbing at his face. “Is this all you have regarding the Shadows?” he asked, looking at Mitsuru-senpai and Kirijo-san.

“Everything from our archives,” Kirijo-san replied swiftly, his hard voice rolling through the room like boulders.

Minato sighed and looked to the ceiling. “Pardon my saying so, but I thought we accessed the archives before. When are we going to get all the answers if we’re being told what you know in pieces?”

“I accept responsibility for that,” Mitsuru-senpai told him, cutting off her father and meeting Minato’s stare with a level gaze. “Ikutsuki and the Kirijo archivists informed me of some of these details weeks ago. Withholding the information was my decision.”

“Why hide it?” Minato asked quietly. Akihiko-senpai glanced over and shifted in his seat, but didn’t say anything. “If it was something we could have used up to now, then what reason was there to keep it from us?”

“It wasn’t pertinent information,” she told him immediately. “Nothing in the files mentioned the details of these larger Shadows. No weaknesses or origins that I haven’t told you about.” Everyone looked at her, and she sighed at the attention but continued on without faltering. “Takeba didn’t trust the Kirijo Group and she made no secret about it. I didn’t know how you felt about us given your background, and there was no way to find out before you arrived. If you had been from a different family and not had the preconceptions that you do, I would have told you. But we need you and Takeba, and knowing that we were behind these new Shadows, even unwittingly, could have affected morale.”

He raised an eyebrow and held a hand out to the side. “You thought I would take it personally, Senpai?”

“I didn’t know,” she told him evenly, “and when you transferred I couldn’t take the chance. I made the decision, and I take responsibility for it.”

Minato stared at her for a moment before turning his gaze to the wall, letting everything sink in. The time stamp on that video was very close to the time his family died in that car accident. Akihiko-senpai had talked about the trauma giving him a Persona that never awoke, and his talk with Pharos still bothered him. Had he smelled gunpowder back then, or was he just imagining it? Memories were fickle things, and easy to change. But why that detail, and why now? Had one of those larger Shadows crashed into his family’s car and killed them? If so, why would it spare a seven-year-old child? Maybe that’s why he could hear them when no one else could, why Tartarus was frightening and familiar in the same breath. But what was the nature of that connection? Or was there one at all? Was he just an anomaly and all these facts were dangling, unconnected threads?

“Well?” Akihiko-senpai spoke up finally. “Where does that leave us?”

Minato glanced at him, then back at the wall. More questions, fewer answers, and the chance for suspicion and paranoia at every turn. But that road went both ways. Could he mistrust Mitsuru-senpai when he kept so much from her? He was a wild card, his abilities lacking any precedent, but they hadn’t tossed him to the curb just because they didn’t understand him, and he wasn’t about the fracture their team because of his suspicions. Not now.

“It’s irrelevant,” he told them finally. “Knowing where the Shadows were ten years ago doesn’t change what we have to do. Are there any surprises that we can expect that you haven’t told us about? Any weapons they took with them? Maybe data on their actions that we can use?”

“My father was testing them as an energy source,” Kirijo-san replied. “We weren’t making tanks or guns, so there would be very little for them to take with them even if they had the minds to think of that. And very little video footage could be salvaged from then – you’ve seen all we have.”

Minato nodded, thought the new facts over again before shrugging. “Then there’s nothing to discuss. I’m not going to hold it against you for keeping this a secret – I can see why you did it.”

Mitsuru-senpai gave a bow, her eyes solemn but a small smile on the edge of her lips. “Thank you, Arisato.”

“That’s pretty forgiving,” Junpei noted, scratching the back of his head. “Time travel, experimenting with those things. Must’ve been tough keeping a lid on it all. This is some heavy shit.”

“We’ve dealt with the Shadows for this long,” Minato replied. “And now we know that there’s twelve in total. That means we’re halfway there. We have what we need to prepare for them and we haven’t lost yet, so I like our odds.”

“That’s if everything stays even,” Akihiko-senpai commented, pushing himself to his feet. “We’ll just corner ourselves if we don’t take them seriously. If that’s everything though, I say we turn in. It’s been a long day already and we did come here for a vacation, right?”

“I agree,” Mitsuru-senpai murmured, folding back a yawn with a dainty, upraised hand. “We’ve been putting in some extreme hours lately. Make the most of it while we’re here.”

Minato nodded and had gone four steps when Kirijo-san rose to his feet. “Arisato. I’d like to speak to you in private.” Junpei and Akihiko-senpai moved out of the way as the man headed for the far door, turning when he was at it and raising an eyebrow.

“Of course,” Minato replied, voice steady. He walked past his comrades, catching the hushed questions between his senpai while Junpei wondered aloud whether the TVs in their rooms had satellite service and which channels he could get.

Kirijo-san opened the door and made his way down the hall, not looking back or even slowing down as Minato followed, a ghost against the authoritative steps that echoed off the walls and ceiling. A large, foreboding door was set in a polished marble frame, and it seemed to suck the lustre and shine from the stone surrounding it. Kirijo-san didn’t slow down, however, and pushed through the heavy wooden portal with easy familiarity, and while the man moved through an office that put the command room at the dorm to shame with ease, Minato stopped and looked around, not wasting the chance to get an inside look at the hardened will behind the Kirijo Group.

As far as offices of rich men went, it had everything he expected. Light, stained furniture, fine carpets on the same marble floor that spread throughout the villa, several statues and busts that were so well polished he could have used them as shaving mirrors, and walls covered in degrees and certificates and accolades as numerous as the books that rested beneath them. Along the wall closest to the balcony was the obligatory line of portraits showing the heads of the Kirijo house. Kirijo-san was younger in his picture, with darker hair and fewer lines, lending him a softer air than the man occupying the chair across the desk from Minato. What immediately stood out was the lack of an eye patch, and Minato marveled at the difference. It made Kirijo-san look like a proud, dignified businessman. And husband and father, he thought. The portrait was probably done before Mitsuru-senpai’s mother passed away.

The others down the line displayed names Minato had never heard, so he focused on the one next to Kirijo-san’s. That of Mitsuru-senpai’s grandfather, the catalyst of the Shadows they were fighting even now. And the portrait of the man caught his attention and made him look closer. Where Kirijo-san’s features were now hard and stern, suffering no fools nor brooking careless mistakes, this man looked distant, unreachable like the face of a statue or painted onto a Grecian urn. The high brow, the angle of the chin and nose that Minato recognized in Mitsuru-senpai, even the suit and the grey in his hair radiated poise and authority, but there was a shallowness that clouded it all, like what had been painted was the shadow instead of the man. Had he been like that in real life? Or were these traits Minato attributed to him after hearing what he’d done, influenced by knowing what the man had become? Had the portrait been done before or after his ill-fated obsession with Shadows?

“Arisato Minato,” Kirijo-san intoned just then, neither lenient nor impatient, but clearly in charge. “This is the first time we’ve met in person.”

Minato turned and walked to the front of the man’s desk, straightening his spine but not letting the power in that gaze push him over. Even sitting back in a plush leather chair, one leg crossed over the other as he calmly lit a fresh cigar, Kirijo-san was an imposing figure. “Yes, sir.”

If the show of manners stood out to the man, he didn’t show it. But neither did he grimace or give pause at the words. “Mitsuru and Ikutsuki tell me that you are exceptional in terms of your abilities,” he began. “That you wield more than one Persona and have a knack for killing Shadows.”

Minato let his face settle into a stoic mask, revealing nothing and tuning every sense on to the man before him. “That’s right. I can’t explain where they come from, but I have several Personas at any given time.”

“How many?”

Minato let a small smile cross his face. “That’s funny; no one’s ever asked that before.” He closed his eyes and touched the surface of his sub-conscious, feeling the occupants therein stir in response. “Right now I have six. I started out with one and gained more since my… abilities, shall we say, emerged in April.”

Kirijo-san blinked twice, slowly, staring hard at Minato. “Six Personas?” he asked, disbelief clear in his voice. “Where did you find them?”

“I’m not sure. They aren’t the same six, either. I’ve lost count of the ones that’ve come and gone so far, but I’m always developing new ones.” Minato hoped Kirijo-san didn’t ask what that meant – no one would believe him about Igor and Elizabeth, no matter how much he tried to convince them.

“That’s uncanny,” the man commented. “I thought someone could only have one Persona. A reflection of their psyche, was what I was told, and since people are who they are, there wouldn’t be a need for more than one.”

Minato shrugged. “It’s a mystery to me as well. I’m not sure how it works, and I’ve spoken to Mitsuru-senpai and Akihiko-senpai about it.”

“Good. They know the dangers of a wild Persona.”

“From the teammate who left before,” Minato supplied tentatively, hoping for something to go on.

Kirijo-san nodded once, tapping the end of his cigar on the nearby ashtray. “Aragaki Shinjiro. His departure was expected considering the circumstances.”

Aragaki Shinjiro. Now he had a name. “I heard different, actually. Akihiko-senpai said they didn’t see it coming. That him leaving SEES was a surprise and that he wasn’t likely to come back.”

“Hm. He would; they were close friends. But that’s for him to talk about, and not why you’re here.”

“Of course. What it is?”

The older man straightened in his chair and took a long breath before replying. “Your talents are unique. You know this, and I have no reason to think that you are lying about them. I hope that you’ll continue to support SEES, learning what you did this evening.”

“My stance on helping Mitsuru-senpai and SEES hasn’t changed, Kirijo-san,” Minato pointed out. “I mean that. Knowing where those things came from doesn’t change what’s happening, and I have no reason to cut and run now.”

“Good.”

“Did you doubt me?”

“People say what they don’t mean around others.” The older man rose from his chair, his eye hard and piercing. “They lie, pander, flatter, and do what they think will earn them credit and favour. What you say stays in this office, but I don’t think that anything more needs to be said. Given your importance to SEES and the efforts to explore Tartarus, I wanted to take your measure.”

“I hope I haven’t disappointed, in that case.”

“Not yet. That’s the other reason I wanted to talk to you.” Kirijo-san turned toward the window, limned in silver moonlight, and moved over to it. Minato followed, watching the man’s reflection in the glass. “This gives me no pleasure to admit,” the man gritted, acid and blades in his voice, “but my father experimented with Personas as well as Shadows. Personas are limited by the bearer’s mind, he said, so they were secondary to a primal creature without those constraints. Less important and useful. That didn’t stop him from conducting tests on them, though.”

“Experimented?”

“Yes.” There was half a lifetime of loathing in that word. “He used children and put them in special situations, sparked their survival instincts and stress responses to see if he could manipulate them. He wanted to influence when their Personas awakened, and what sorts of Personas would arise as a result. Another form of control, and who he used didn’t matter to him.”

Minato paused for a moment before his eyes widened. “Was I in any way–“

“No,” Kirijo-san told him immediately. “We didn’t know you existed until your parents passed away. No matter what we have kept from you, that is the truth. I wouldn’t lie about that.” His eye narrowed, hard steel boiling in a furnace of disgust and hate. “You would have remembered it if you were a participant. I am certain of it.” The fire snapped and hissed for a few moments before banking and smouldering in place. The man’s voice was still harsh enough to cut the glass before him, though. “I bring this up only because those databanks were relatively untouched. Since your transfer and joining SEES, we’ve combed them and made what theories we can surrounding your abilities and everything else on the subject.”

“I see.” It was all Minato could say. No other words worked.

“We still know very little about Personas. Mitsuru and Sanada are rare enough cases, and we can’t do more than make your Evokers.” The man let out a long breath and his shoulders eased back a fraction. “There are many possibilities and ideas, but no solid evidence that explains where they come from. I mention this because your unique talents might also be a very real threat to you. You’re a factor we never considered before, so there are no failsafes in place to help you if your situation goes awry. I can’t offer warnings that the others haven’t, but I want you to know what the stakes are.”

“I’ve felt the dangers before now,” Minato replied quietly. “I’ll be careful. I don’t want to see the others hurt, and that’s not even mentioning what my Personas would do to me if they went out of control.”

“Good.” Kirijo-san looked out the window for a moment before turning back to his desk and sitting in his chair, face stern from the blind side. “It’s insanity,” he muttered, “that children are left to fix the mistakes of my father’s era. We may as well give you bombs and tanks.”

“It is what it is, sir,” Minato replied, oddly calm from the agitation he could feel from across the desk. “We’ll be ready for what comes at us.”

Kirijo-san grunted and glanced across the framed pictures before him, and Minato’s eyes followed, looking at the photos curiously. Edged in gold and soft in the light of the room, they sat, carefully arranged, at just such an angle that Minato could see them.

He looked at the one closest to him, at a red-haired girl of eight or nine in a pressed, perfect school uniform who looked more serious and knowing that any child had a right to be. The next one showed a strikingly beautiful woman with familiar red hair, grinning and eyes closed as she buried her face into her daughter’s long curls, because that could only be senpai’s mother. Beneath was the caption ‘We love you, Daddy – 1998.’ The third showed that same girl, younger still, held in the loving embrace of her parents as they posed for the camera. Kirijo-san was almost unrecognizable with the gentle smile on his face and in his eyes. Finally, the last one he could see showed Mitsuru-senpai in a middle school uniform, blouse and skirt with shorter hair and shoes instead of boots. Perched on her head was a scholar’s cap, in her hands a series of awards. Minato smiled a little – she was an achiever even then – but sobered when he saw her eyes. Intelligent, canny, and far older than her face or clothes suggested. Some took their experiences, good and bad, and learned from them, grew with them, but he knew that wasn’t strictly the case in that picture. She had grown and attained much, of course, but at a cost. The girl in those photos had learned things, seen things, that had burned her even as they taught her. “It can’t be easy for Mitsuru-senpai,” he told the man, pointing to the picture. “Knowing all this, living with the things her grandfather did.”

“My father,” Kirijo-san correctly sharply. “He was my father, but she needs not bear the burden of such a relation to that man.”

“Your father,” Mintao conceded. “Everything he did, everything we’re seeing now. I see why she pushes herself so hard.”

There was a storm of emotions in Kirijo-san’s eye. Anger, regret and grief, resentment and hopelessness, all raging around the steel will of a man who would take all the evils of the world unto himself if he could. And Minato felt it, an insight that rose from the depths and broke the waters of his mind –Kirijo Takeharu was normal. He didn’t have a Persona, no inborn talent or means of making these problems disappear. Instead he had a poisoned legacy, guilt from actions he hadn’t committed and consequences he’d tried to stop, and no means of assuaging either. For all the wrongs he’d experienced, everything he’d wanted to make right, he had to rely on others to make his desires real and hope for the best.

In that instant, for a broken splinter of time, Minato saw a man who’d lost his wife but couldn’t mourn her. A father who watched his only child fight battles that he couldn’t protect her from. A person who endured three generations of pain because it was the only path left open to him.

Then the moment was over, and Kirijo Takeharu was granite and nails again. “She takes too much on her shoulders. Even with Ikutsuki running the dorm, she cares nothing for herself. Leading the team, being at the centre of it all. It will kill her someday.”

“I don’t think you give her enough credit, sir,” Minato replied, steeling himself for the man’s scrutiny. “She takes on a lot, but I don’t think she resents it. She’s adapted to fighting Shadows, she’s a star at school, and she’s always helped me when I needed it. I don’t think she could have juggled all those roles if she didn’t enjoy it on some level.”

“You think that she takes pleasure from these responsibilities?”

“I think it’s how she does all those things you mentioned and still supports the people around her like they matter. Because to her, they do. She’s not an official reading reports and giving orders to people she’s never met. She lives with us, fights with us, and never gives less than her all. She’s strong because of that, and if I may be so bold, she’s an inspiration to all of us.”

Kirijo-san looked at him, both hard and assessing, like he was viewing a familiar problem from a new angle. “Perhaps.” Then his tone was authoritative again. “It’s good that you appreciate the risks of your condition and circumstances, Arisato. Inform Ikutsuki or Mitsuru if anything changes. That is all.”

Minato bowed politely, taking the tone and dismissal on the chin. “Thank you for your time then. Good night.” He backed up two steps before heading for the door, not making a sound and hearing nothing but the slight creak of the chair and long inhales and exhales, the heavy scent of the cigar, when he opened the door. Before he passed through, he took one covert glance back at the man. Leaning back and tapping the arm of his chair, Kirijo-san looked no different. But he was staring at the pictures of his wife and daughter on the desk.

And maybe, just maybe, there was the hint of a smile on his lips.

 

* * *

 

The next morning was an odd mix of tension and indifference. Fuuka had helped Yukari calm down and brought her back to her room, and it seemed like they were closer than before. That hadn’t stopped Yukari from giving Mitsuru-senpai the cold shoulder, however, and the redhead seemed bothered by the development, but didn’t know how to handle it. Minato was processing everything his meeting with Kirijo-san had told him about the man and Mitsuru-senpai, and carefully filled and emptied his plate of fruits and toast and miso soup and more from the breakfast buffet table. Akihiko looked like he wanted to say something to the girls, but couldn’t find the words, which left him eating so mechanically that one could have replaced his protein mix with powdered concrete and he wouldn’t have noticed. And Junpei being Junpei regaled Minato on all the channels that the villa’s TVs had to offer while he ate everything in sight.

Fuuka suggested that they go on a walk and hit the beach later, trying to break some of the heaviness in the air. Mitsuru offered to guide them along some paths and trails she knew, and Yukari surprisingly accepted when Fuuka invited her along, but her distracted tone showed that she wasn’t all there. On the heels of the girls, Junpei declared that ‘we guys have something to do at the beach, so we’ll see you when you’re done.’ Minato threw him a questioning look, but the student grinned and brushed off any and all questions, which only gave him a sinking feeling in his stomach that withered away what remained of his appetite.

That was how Minato and Akihiko-senpai found themselves on the beach, being briefed on ‘Operation: Babe Hunt,’ and that sinking feeling gave way to an exasperated sigh. He would have risked an official reprimand and gone AWOL at the first opportunity if Akihiko-senpai hadn’t gotten the bit in his teeth and taken on Junpei’s challenge. That sealed it for Minato. Junpei he could handle, even at the risk of the teen’s ire, but Akihiko-senpai could, and probably would, run him down if he tried to desert his comrades. And thus began their attempts at picking up the various girls on the beach. Junpei’s luck might have been better if he weren’t tripping over his tongue, but Minato admitted to himself that he wasn’t trying very hard. All the girls they hit up reminded him of the students he tried to avoid back at school, and for exactly the same reasons. Be it their snobby attitudes or their ‘in-crowd’ way of talking, he had no time for them and only put in a cursory effort to satisfy the others. They saw it as a failure, and he was just about to suggest that they go back down the beach and see if the girls had finished their walk when Junpei stiffened and pointed toward the pier.

Akihiko-senpai whistled next to them, leaning forward and directing Minato’s gaze.

She was tall, dressed in flowing pale blue and staring out to sea. Did she look sad? Maybe, since she didn’t move. But maybe she was just enjoying the view and tuning out, listening to something catchy on those earphone of hers. Minato’s eyes narrowed. Only she wasn’t bobbing her head or moving her hips or even shuffling her feet. And he wasn’t sure that those were earphones; they weren’t a model he recognized.

“Dude,” Junpei whispered reverently. “Jackpot.”

“No kidding,” Akihiko-senpai agreed.

Minato’s response was less enthusiastic. “If you like blondes, I guess. Or girls who wear nightgowns while visiting the beach. Should we really bother with this?”

“Of course we should!” Junpei insisted sharply. “I mean, look at her! Beautiful, alone, lost in an uncaring world as she looks over the ocean, waiting for word of her one true love. There’s no way we can leave here like that! I say we go talk to her.”

Minato blinked for a moment, then turned to his comrade, incredulous. “Did you just quote ‘Farewell my Forlorn Love’? First off, doesn’t this situation seem strange? Second, the director of that movie was on drugs, and third, no one talks like that anymore. It doesn’t apply to this in any way.”

“Of course it does!” Junpei hissed, pointing to the girl without looking too obvious. “We struck out before, but this is a perfect chance to even the score. And don’t diss those movies – chicks love stuff like that. Everyone says so.”

And off he went, taking a few fortifying breaths before heading down the pier with a winning smile across his face.

Minato sighed, not paying attention as they talked. “If girls like that stuff, then why didn’t he use those lines before?”

Whether Junpei did or didn’t try said lines on this girl, he returned to their hiding spot rubbing his forehead, clearly puzzled. “Man, what is with her?” he murmured. “She didn’t have to be that blunt.”

“I’ll go next,” Akihiko-senpai told them, watching the girl closely as he followed in Junpei’s footsteps.

“Since when does he care so much about girls?” Minato muttered, edging away from the scene and looking into the trees near the beach. Maybe his senpai really had a thing for foreigners. When he heard dejected footsteps approaching again, he scratched his cheek and spoke over his shoulder. “So, good try all around. Shall we learn from our failures and see the wisdom in looking forward? With great attempts it’s glorious even to fail? Let’s call it–“ There was a sudden rush of limbs and he was forcibly spun around. “Wha– Whoa! Hey!” He would have snapped at them for being manhandled, but he was faced with two pairs of crazed, burning eyes.

“You’re our leader,” Junpei told him quietly, glaring hard. “No way you’re getting out of this without giving your all.”

“This is nuts,” Minato shot back. “She looks like an asylum patient in that getup, and hasn’t moved in spite of being hit on. She’s not even looking over here after you two came from the same direction. Why doesn’t this seem weird to you?”

“Give it a go anyway. We can’t leave without something to show for it,” Akihiko-senpai told him, almost in a hiss. “It makes up for you not trying before.”

Minato winced on the inside; he’d hoped they hadn’t noticed. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, pushing their hands off and heading toward the pier while trying to find something charming to say. Not because he wanted to – he wasn’t into blondes – but because he was increasingly convinced that failure to do so would end in him being skinned alive and thrown into the ocean.

Only he didn’t have the chance to succeed or fail. As soon as a ‘Hey’ left his mouth, the girl spun to face him. Her words barely made sense, but he was struck, like a wooden plank to the kidneys, by the feeling of wrongness as soon as he saw her face. Her tone was off, her eyes seemed alert yet dead, and she tore past him at a dead sprint that left him, like an idiot, watching the spot where she’d been standing until moments before.

What held him in place, even as Junpei and Akihiko-senpai rushed up to him, was a cold shock like circling shark fins that her words left in him. And her face in the few seconds he’d had to see it…

“What the hell was that?” Junpei demanded. “What’d you say to her?”

“Nothing,” he replied woodenly, not looking at them or moving as he tried to make sense of his instincts. They’d caught him flat-footed, should have startled him, yet his Personas were at rest, and that made him even more uneasy.

“She just ran into the woods, so you must’ve said something to her,” Akihiko-senpai commented, fist on his hip. “You’d better not have tried to blow this just for kicks.”

“I said ‘hello.’ That’s it,” Minato told them with a level stare. “Maybe she’s off her meds and that’s a trigger word of hers. Or she’s a sleeper agent with the American military and Virginia just called. How should I know?”

“Well the least you can do is follow her to apologize,” Junpei told him in a tone that brooked no argument.

Only Minato didn’t argue. He stared back at the water in thought and tried to jostle his memory. Blonde, blue eyes, pale skin and fair features. Pretty, perhaps, but nothing that would stop traffic, and a low, level voice. He couldn’t place her, had no idea where the feeling was coming from, but that didn’t stop the cold feeling from sending another shiver through him.

Someone snapped the fingers near his face to get his attention. “Hey. Are you listening?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Minato murmured, brushing the hand away. “I’m just… sure I’ve seen her before.”

Akihiko-senpai raised an eyebrow, head tilted and the fire from the competition leaving him at last. “What? Are you sure?”

“I think so. I have no idea from where, though.”

“Well, maybe seeing her again will help. Since she reacted like that, it could be that she knows you. All the more reason to follow her and see for yourself.”

“Yeah, Senpai, I know.” Minato looked at the trail the girl had taken like it was the hotel door that the last Shadow had been hiding behind. “I just have a bad feeling about this, that’s all.”

Junpei looked at him speculatively, adjusting his hat as he followed Minato’s gaze. “Why? She’s a girl in a nightgown, and sure, she freaked out and took off, but it’s not like she’s dangerous. Not to us.”

“Appearances can be deceiving,” Akihiko-senpai reminded him. “Even if she didn’t look like much more than a girl our age. I have no idea what sort of threat she could present, though.”

Minato gave a sigh. “Me neither.” And standing around wasn’t going to answer any questions. He turned his senses inward and stirred the sea of his soul, feeling his six Personas awaken at once and rise in his mind. His nerves prickled and hummed, like he’d touched a light socket while wet, but this time it wasn’t painful. He gave a soft snort – maybe his Personas were napping and on vacation too and didn’t feel like making things hard for him. But they were ready if he needed them. “I guess I’ll go find her and see what the problem is.”

“Hopefully it isn’t a problem,” Akihiko-senpai replied, eyes narrow.

“We’ll follow you if you need the backup,” Junpei offered.

Minato thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “She responded to me, and running away suggests she’s not hostile. Not yet, anyway. Maybe you guys should get in touch with Mitsuru-senpai and the others though, see if they know anything about this.”

“Right. We’re on it,” was Junpei’s response.

Minato set off into the trees then, carefully picking his steps and taking his time. He hoped he didn’t have to fight given that he was wearing sandals instead of shoes and had left his Evoker back in the dorm. But his Personas were a welcome comfort this time.

Up the trail, around the bend, and finally reaching a huge tree with a large wooden sign at the base, he saw the mystery girl staring at him from behind it. Only there was nothing subtle about her surveillance. Half her face was hidden by the sign, but the other half was steady and unmoving, like a child who believed that desire was all it took to be invisible.

Well, he’d found her. He was about to greet her again when she walked out from behind the sign and stopped about ten feet from him. The same sense of foreboding crept up on him like cold, rising fog. His breath caught and eyes narrowed while his awakened Personas circled like hawks, power spiking and waiting for an order. It set his nerves sparking and snapping again. “Who are you?” he demanded, tasking half a step back and centering his weight.

Her pupils narrowed while her eyelids stayed the same. “You are him. I see that I was not incorrect. Allow me to be near you from now on.”

Her voice, so even and level and flat, set his hackles up. “What?”

“Aigis!” a voice called from behind them and broke the moment like a crystal glass hitting a concrete floor. Minato turned to see Ikutsuki, still in his suit for some reason, and the girls following him looking curious or bewildered or both. “There you are,” the dorm administrator continued, amused and chiding at the same time. “On whose directive did you leave the facility?”

“On my own directive,” the girl replied, simple and concise like she was replying to an order. “I concluded that such was necessary for an accurate assessment of the situation. I felt that such would further your goal in awakening me. Was I mistaken?”

“Of course not,” Ikutsuki chuckled. “Of course not. But we could have waited until the others had the chance to hear about it first. A proper introduction would have made this easier.”

By then Akihiko-senpai and Junpei caught up to them, making inquiries and pointing to the girl, Aigis. Minato’s nerves were still fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings, unsure if he was being threatened or not. “What’s going on?” he asked finally. “Who is she?”

Ikutsuki took them back to the villa, promising answers when they got there. Minato kept as far as he could from her, insisting that she stay near Ikutsuki and Fuuka while never lowering his guard. When they arrived, they got their answers about Aigis and the Anti-Shadow Weapons made by the Kirijo. Fuuka was immediately fascinated, Yukari tested out the social conversation protocols when she could, and Mitsuru-senpai looked curious but otherwise unruffled. Junpei and Akihiko-senpai looked resigned and one of them made a comment about ‘a robot by the ocean in a nightgown. How does that make sense?’

Minato stayed only long enough to ask what he been on his mind since he’d met her at the pier. “How does she know me? What did she say when she said she wants to be near me?”

“I stated that because it is my desire,” Aigis responded immediately. “Is my answer unsatisfactory?”

“Perhaps her recognition programs are out of sync,” Ikutsuki offered. “Unless you two have met before?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Minato replied, trying to avoid Aigis’s stare.

“Desires mean that she’s close to human in some way though, doesn’t it?” Fuuka inquired excitedly. “Machines don’t have those.”

“Unless she’s programmed to word it that way to seem more human,” Minato pointed out.

“You don’t seem as enthusiastic as the others, Arisato-kun,” Ikutsuki noted with a raised eyebrow. “Is something the matter?”

Minato’s eyes shifted back to Aigis, who was, again, staring at him. And the prior unease hadn’t subsided. But where was it coming from? Was the idea of a robot in the shape of a high-school girl wielding a Persona so unexpected that the reality of it was setting him off? She didn’t seem threatening, but just being near her put him on edge. Why was she giving him a false positive like this? His Personas were agitated by him, not her, and yet his instincts didn’t stop whispering, keeping him on guard.

“It’s been a long day,” he told them finally, breaking eye contact with Aigis and waving a hand dismissively. “There’s lots to think about considering we’re supposed to be on vacation. I’m turning in.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and headed for the door leading to their rooms.

“Have I caused offense?” he heard Aigis ask, loud and clear, when his hand closed on the knob. It gave him pause, and not because of her. Instead, he knew that he was brushing off his comrades, his friends, because of something he couldn’t give name to, and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. But that didn’t stop it from nagging him. Another mystery, more unanswered questions and dangling threads, and once again they were being kept in the dark, by circumstance or by design, and he had no idea how to start sorting it all out.

Rather than verbalizing any of his concerns, he gave his answer in a much more direct way: he pulled the door open, slipped from the room, and firmly shut it behind him without looking back.

 

* * *

 

Stonehenge. The Great Wall. Giza’s Great Pyramid. Hagia Sophia and the Taj Mahal. Minato sighed and put the stack back on the wire rack and tried the next one while covering his mouth for a jaw-creaking yawn. He’d hoped that a decent night’s sleep and some time to himself would set his mind back on track. But it didn’t. First there were the questions about Aigis and how she knew him and why his instincts were warning him about her. Second was everything about the Shadows he’d learned from Kirijo-san and how it applied to Tartarus, which was oddly absent from the discussion. Third was preparing for more Shadow-killing excursions once they got back to the dorm, which only dampened his mood. He’d wanted to enjoy his vacation, but work wouldn’t leave him alone, keeping him up half the night as concerns circled his mind like water in a drain. He’d woken up with gritty eyes and feeling drugged, actually tripping twice on his way to the shower and having breakfast in private. He’d been partway through his regular stretches and workout when he decided on a course of action for the morning, and he’d gone to it without a second thought.

When the novel causes problems, his kendo teacher had told him, return to the familiar. Go back to the basics and work from there.

So that’s what he was doing. Hitting up the local gift shop and indulging an old interest born from being relegated to a schedule of school, kendo, and appointments with the Kirijo: collecting postcards.

He brought up a new stack and began to flip through them, smiling at what he saw. Machu Picchu, the Panama Canal, Chichen Itza, and the Potala Palace in China. There was also one of the Aurora Borealis that he hadn’t seen before, the colours vibrant and a soothing contrast to the blue and gold he’d seen since arriving, and he set them aside to purchase.

A cursory glance through the rest of the shop concluded his shopping expedition, not needing to buy any souvenirs or good luck charms. He was just passing by the magazine stands when he heard someone speaking from the other side.

“Oh, aren’t these cute!” a familiar voice gushed. That would be Fuuka.

“These cell phone straps are pretty nice,” Yukari noted. “Seems like resorts have the best selection for stuff like this.”

“What is the purpose of such ornamentation?”

Aigis. Minato’s growing smile died. Even hearing her voice made him uneasy, and he made a swift decision to leave before the others knew he was there. Far easier to avoid the drama and awkwardness of talking to their newest member than be caught lying about it.

“It’s to make things look nicer,” Yukari explained. “Like that ribbon we got you. You don’t need it, but it suits you, and people appreciate someone who looks classy when they see them.”

“Fabric is used for the purpose of camouflage or modesty,” Aigis replied immediately.

“Sometimes girls want to look better, though, and these sorts of things help with that.” Yukari seemed to enjoy explaining these things to Aigis, though how the other people in the store didn’t find the robot’s way of speaking unusual was a mystery.

Paying for his purchases and slipping around the displays when they weren’t looking, Minato made his way quietly toward the door, happy to be in his shoes and silent as a graveyard mouse when he moved. He was out of their line of sight and about to push the door open when Aigis’s voice caught him again. “Do you feel that Minato-san is offended by me? His reactions suggest a level of dislike, if not a lack of trust.”

Already onto his first name? Minato snorted and cast an annoyed glance in her direction. For a robot, she was certainly brazen.

“Minato-kun was probably just trying to put everything together,” Fuuka told her new companion. “There’s a lot riding on his shoulders, and even Mitsuru-senpai defers to him in the field sometimes. New situations need to be considered all the time, so I think you caught him at a bad time.”

“We also don’t know a lot about him,” Yukari pointed out. “None of us discuss our backgrounds unless we have to. It’s kind of a rule. And he keeps a lot of things to himself; that’s just how he is.”

“By that logic, what is the suggested course of action so that he is less offended by me?”

“Well, he might like his space,” Yukari suggested. “He’s a pretty private kinda guy, so having someone pledge to be near him all the time like he’s a feudal lord might’ve been a bad place to start.”

“That could not be avoided,” Aigis asserted immediately. “It is my desire to be near him. Communicating as much deterred future complications.”

Fuuka hummed over the response, and Minato tossed in his chips and headed back to the villa. He set a swift pace, slipping past beachgoers and tourists and workers as smoothly as he could and was up the villa steps before he let Aigis’s words sink in. And he narrowed his eyes when they did. Yukari had the right of it – he didn’t want someone or something hanging around him uninvited, especially not when she set off so many of his alarm bells and couldn’t or wouldn’t explain why she found him so fascinating. He was going to have to talk to Mitsuru-senpai or Ikutsuki when they got back to Tatsumi Port Island regarding where she was going to stay, because the last thing he needed was another guest entering and leaving his room unannounced. Pharos was plenty in that respect.

“Hey!” Junpei called out, dressed in his swimming trunks and sandals. “Me and Akihiko-senpai and Mitsuru-senpai are heading to the beach. Wanna join us? Yukatan and Fuuka took Aigis gift shopping a while ago, so they should be back later.”

“Will there be another operation?” Minato asked, shouldering his small bag of purchases and glad for the distraction from his thoughts.

Junpei cocked his head before waving a hand dismissively. “Huh? Oh, that. Nah, no sense in taking the chance. With our luck we’ll find a man-eating mermaid if we try to pick up girls again. This is just for the fun of it.”

Maybe he could try for a day off. Yukari and Fuuka could keep Aigis busy, and he could build another sand castle. Or sunbathe with Mitsuru-senpai. She respected space and silence in equal measure. “Sure,” Minato told his comrade. “I’m in. Let me drop off my stuff and I’ll be down there in a minute.”

Shortly after he dropped off his postcards and changed into his swimwear, he was making his way to the now-familiar stretch of sand, complete with a beach house and a stocked fridge, and saw Junpei floating on the tides while Akihiko-senpai and Mitsuru-senpai were talking quietly.

“Arisato,” Mitsuru-senpai greeted as he approached, looking past him and to the villa.

“Senpai,” he replied, nodding to them both. “We leave tomorrow, right?”

“That’s right,” Akihiko-senpai confirmed. “Make sure you’ve got all your stuff before we leave.”

“That won’t be a problem.” Minato looked at the Kirijo heiress curiously, who was looking back at the villa with an oddly impatient expression. “Is something wrong, Mitsuru-senpai?”

“I’d like to get more sunscreen on before I get too comfortable,” she explained while crossing her arms. Minato was glad for his sunglasses since he couldn’t resist the swelling of her breasts that such an action inspired. She truly was beautiful in that swimsuit, and yet she acted like she was wearing her school uniform. “The maids were too busy with my father’s departure to help me this time.”

Minato nodded in understanding. She probably wasn’t big on being burnt, especially with skin that fair. “That makes sense.”

Then there was a low, calm chuckle to the side. “If you’re looking for someone to do your back, I think Arisato here should be fine,” Akihiko-senpai suggested, stopping Minato’s heart cold. What was he doing?

Mitsuru-senpai looked back with a raised eyebrow. “It’s just sunscreen, Akihiko. No need to nominate someone for the position.”

“Right, but I’m going to go for a swim, and who knows when the girls are going to get back with Aigis. No sense in wasting time on our last day here, right?”

Minato wanted to throttle his senpai as much as he wanted to sink into the sand and disappear. Sure, Mitsuru-senpai was gorgeous, and he was fine just having a pleasant conversation. But being behind her? Touching her? What was Akihiko-senpai thinking? But then his heart settled a little when she stayed silent for a moment. She’d probably wait for Fuuka to help her with it, so there was no need to–

“I see your point. Arisato, would you help me?”

And his mind derailed and fell off the bridge, breaking on a canyon floor. Putting sunscreen on Kirijo Mitsuru? Touching her when she couldn’t see him? His mind went back to their fencing match and how she’d so soundly beaten him, and his temperature spiked. No no no, this was wrong. This was a joke, a really bad joke.

Mitsuru-senpai seemed ignorant to his mental marathon. “I just need you to get the parts of my back that I couldn’t. I hope it’s not an imposition.”

“It… it’s not…” He couldn’t say it past the hundreds of other syllables that wanted to come out. It was the first real time that he’d ever been tongue-tied.

Then Akihiko-senpai smacked him on the back as he passed. “Don’t worry. Just you being Mitsuru’s assistant, right? Nothing to it.”

When Minato gained enough of his senses to turn and glare at the star boxer, he got an uncharacteristic grin and a wave in response. And then the Senior was gone.

There was a slight shifting in the sand, and he turned to see Mitsuru-senpai looking a little uncomfortable. “It’s no imposition,” he assured her finally. “I’d be happy to help you. Did you have a way you wanted to do this?”

She nodded and pointed to her chair. “Move to the back,” she instructed, and then turned and sat in front of him, shuffling back a little and making her swimsuit hug her closer while certain parts of her body wiggled and shifted with her movements. Minato’s eyes blocked out the sand and the ocean and the chair, focusing only on her to the exclusion of all reality. It was only her handing him the sunscreen that kept him convinced that he wasn’t dreaming in his room.

Once he took the bottle, she reached back and pulled up the wealth of her hair, revealing her back and the ties of her top. They were tight and unlikely to break, but the action showed him the wealth of unbroken skin that was her back. And for how much those swimsuit ties were holding up, he was surprised by how small they were. “You can get started,” she told him calmly.

“Y-yeah.” He sounded like an idiot. He knew it. But it was all he could say just then.

And it seemed she’d picked up his unease. “If it’s a problem–“

“It isn’t,” he blurted out. “It’s just… not what I expected. Akihiko-senpai sorta caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

She gave a thoughtful hum and turned to where their comrade was working on his backstroke. “That was unusual for him. He seemed to want a response out of you for some reason.”

“Right. I’m not sure what he was up to either.” He oiled up his hands and was about to start when she spoke again.

“By the way, what did he say to you the other day? After we arrived and met here, it seemed like you were disagreeing on something.”

Minato froze. Of course she would ask, in her swimsuit and sitting in front of him like it was nothing out of the ordinary. Being this close was hard, but recreating that scene didn’t help.

“She looks good, doesn’t she? Don’t let her catch you staring, or she’ll put you on the spot.”

“I wasn’t staring,” Minato snapped back.

“It was nothing, Senpai,” he told her, a little shaky as the memory vanished and left him with the sight of her skin. “He was just poking fun.” When Minato finally touched her back, careful as he could be, she flinched away. “Sorry,” he told her immediately.

“No, it’s not your fault. This is a rather novel situation.”

“I guess so. I’ll try to be careful though.” He started applying it and tried to get used to how warm her skin was under his hands. How soft it was and how firm the muscles were underneath. In spite of her presence and the sheer force of her will, she wasn’t especially large either. Broader in the shoulders than Yukari, maybe, but that probably came from a lifetime of fencing. Nor was she thin like some of the girls in class who cut meals and bemoaned their weight, frantically searching for diet ideas. No, Kirijo Mitsuru was put together just right.

“You’re doing fine. I won’t break under a bit of pressure.” She ended her words with a little hum, or maybe half a chuckle. Was she ticklish as well?

“Right. I didn’t think so.” He continued to carefully put on the sunscreen, watching that he didn’t accidentally untie anything or brush a finger too low, and felt his apprehension die down a little. As little as a pound of metal off the Statue of Liberty, but at least it was in the right direction. The he looked up to the nape of her beautiful neck (when had he thought necks were beautiful?) and saw a thin white streak nestled against the upper knot of her top. Tan lines, he thought immediately. And of course she would have them – she wasn’t an exhibitionist, even if her family owned the beach – but seeing them on her neck, and the middle of her back when he looked a bit closer, only made him think of the other parts of her that weren’t tanned. The other parts of her he couldn’t see. And his breathing stopped as he tensed up again.

“You’re uncomfortable,” she noted, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder. “Is it because of Aigis?”

She gave him an out and something else to focus on, but his relief didn’t change that she was at least partially correct. And maybe talking to her about it would help. “That’s… part of it, I suppose. Something about her puts me on edge. Maybe it’s the uncanny valley, or how odd it is for someone I’ve never met before wanting to be close to me. Part of it feels like another unexplained coincidence, and I’ve had enough of those to last a lifetime.”

“That’s understandable. She’ll be a valuable asset when we grow accustomed to her, but she puts me on my guard as well, if that helps.”

“It does, actually. Why does she bother you, Senpai?”

Mitsuru-senpai gave a small hum, and he felt the vibrations under her skin as he stopped applying sunscreen. “I think it’s because she looks and sounds human, but isn’t. Even with an ego and a Persona, she has no depth, no soul beyond what is ascribed to her. I look at her for details and secrets but find nothing. Like looking down a well for water and hitting rock bottom right away. It feels like a contradiction.”

“I understand. And I’m glad that I’m not the only one who finds her strange.” He was done oiling her back, and couldn’t keep up the façade that he wasn’t. She might have been blind to his personal conflict and to her own beauty, but he was sure she knew how like it took to put on sunscreen. “You’re done, Mitsuru-senpai,” he told her as he shuffled back on the chair. “Shouldn’t have any problems or burns now.”

“Thank you, Arisato. I appreciate it.” She looked at him as he rose and stepped back so she could lie down. “Make sure you enjoy your time here,” she told him as she shuffled around on her chair, setting her sarong into place. “We might get busy once we return to the dorm, and it would be a waste if you spent your time here focused on the future.”

Minato gave a wry smile at how well she could read him when it came to work. “That’s why we’re here in the first place, right?”

“Correct. It’s difficult, I know, but don’t let the opportunity pass you by.” Then she laid back on her chair and spread her hair out like a wavy red fan, clearly intent on catching some rays.

He headed to the beach and focused on keeping his mind off Tatsumi Port Island. He expanded on the sand castle with Fuuka, then got into a water fight with Junpei and Yukari, and even raced Akihiko-senpai out to the buoy and back to soak in as much of their vacation as he could. When he looked up from his senpai’s chuckles and thanks for the challenge and trying to catch his breath, he saw Mitsuru-senpai speaking quietly to Aigis, who was, for once, not looking at him. Maybe it was deliberate and she was keeping the robot busy, or maybe she was just satisfying her own curiousity, but either way he didn’t have to worry about the strange stares and feeling off kilter. He gave a thankful half-bow from where he sat in the waves, regardless if she saw it, and turned back to Yukari and Junpei.

They stayed there for the rest of the day, through Ikutsuki’s reminder and lunch and even dinner as the sun began to go down. None of them were leaving the beach paler than a nice bronze tan, but now there was an energy that had been missing from their group before, a vibrant hum that Minato could feel as he watched from the chairs that evening. Junpei had brought out a stash of fireworks and was looking for matches. Minato was certain his senpai or at least Yukari would tear into him for that, but then Yukari and Fuuka brought out their own pouches of coloured explosives, and Akihiko-senpai provided several lighters.

Some sat on the sand, others directed the rockets into the air, but they all watched the multi-coloured bursts and streaks across the sky with joy. And when Minato looked at them, watching out for any problems, they felt like a team. Maybe more. A family? No, he decided, they weren’t that far along. Not yet. But they were closer than the students who’d been brought together by the dorm back in April, and stronger than the fragmented group that’d left that broken-down hotel.

“They’re happy now,” Mitsuru-senpai commented as she approached from the side, watching the group with a fetching little smile across her rosebud lips. “This wouldn’t have been possible at the dorm.”

“Not as they were, no,” Minato agreed, letting her come as close as she wanted and luxuriating in the smell of her hair and sunscreen when she stopped near him.

“I have a request,” she told him after several minutes and numerous booms, screaming streaks and firecracker pops. “You did well earlier, so I thought you would be the best one to ask.”

Minato threaded his fingers together and tried not to blush at the memory of how her skin felt. “I’ll do what I can. What is it?”

“I’ve been reflecting on where I need to improve myself,” she began, slow but calm and watching him with those incredible red eyes. “And I’d like to try new eating experiences, particularly at fast-food establishments. If you have the time, I’d like you to show me the proper etiquette so I don’t look like a fool.”

Minato stared at her, this time without his sunglasses to cover his surprise. Did… had she just asked him on a date? Lunch dates for the purpose of research, sure, but it was the last thing he imagined he would hear from her.

“That’s not the first time you’ve made that expression,” she noted, shifting a little in place and looking away uncertainly. “If I am out of line, then I apologize. It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that,” he told her immediately. “I’m not uncomfortable, it’s just… you’re very good at saying things I don’t expect.”

“All war is deception,” she commented, brushing her hair back. “It’s why you beat those students in the kendo ring, isn’t it?”

“It’s also how you put me down at fencing,” he replied, grinning at the memory. “But I take your point. And it would be an honour. You name the time and day, and I’ll go with you. Wherever you want to go.”

That got a warm smile from her and a small bow of the head. “Thank you, Arisato. I don’t think I could ask the others for that. And your discretion is appreciated.”

“Anytime, Senpai. Just ask.”

They looked out over the ocean, alight with stars and the rising moon and reflecting fireworks. And it occurred to Minato that there were only a few inches between them. They were leaning on the same chair, after all. But he didn’t say anything, happy to be where he was. And she didn’t move away from him even after a comfortable silence rested between them.

That brought a firework-lit smile to his face and he went back to watching his friends. If she didn’t have a problem being this close, then neither did he.

 

* * *

 

Location Unknown

It wasn’t much. A spike in the usual security protocols that maintained the familiar net of static and consistency, nothing but a small voice in the usual white noise. Normally it wouldn’t have been enough to garner an acknowledgement, let alone a response. But when it repeated in a signal that was foreign to the system, and when that signal echoed four times before the security runtimes cut it off completely, it was enough to initiate a cursory response. Sub-systems roused from dormancy and commenced a scan of the situation, sending readouts flashing by in a second.

-Runtimes 4749-18374 initiated. Accessing peripheral systems.

-Priority: Confirm present scenario. Contact sources for status update.

Establishing contact…

-External sources unavailable. Connection blocked. Probable cause: Mechanical failure.

-Priority update: Establish connection with individual units to confirm situation.

Searching databanks…

-Individual KASW 0-2-0 A optimal candidate. Reasoning: Prior experience and autonomy.

Searching… … Searching… … Individual KASW 0-2-0 A not found.

Runtimes cascaded into mission priorities, hundreds of programs processing, conflicting, coalescing in milliseconds, as silent as the room. None of the usual visitors were around. They must have been sleeping – it was that hour, after all.

The programs cut off when the scanning signal returned, cutting through the processes and lighting up circuits in its wake. A message that took highest priority.

-Presence detected. Possible threat. Proximity: Less than 5km. Details: Minimal. Suggested course of action: Gather data. Assess extent of threat, respond as necessary.

Scanning…

-Internal databanks deemed unsuitable. Reason: Facilities present insufficient resources.

Compiling data… Assessing objectives…

-Primary objective: Locate and assess source of presence. Measure threat and risk levels. Eliminate if necessary.

-Primary objective: Establish contact with KASW 0-2-0 A.

-Perpetual objective: Eliminate threats as required.

-Data consensus: Present location unsuitable. Autonomy required.

Activating.

Systems that had laid long inactive flashed to life, immediately streamlining performance and efficiency. Cognitive functions, assessment protocols, combat initiatives, and support codes wove together in a gestalt of processing power. Consciousness arose, objectives were acknowledged, and everything necessary was at hand.

Two red eyes slowly opened.


	6. In Quartata

Mitsuru-senpai shifted a bit in front of him, turning and looking at him seriously. “Is this uncomfortable for you?”

“Uncomfortable? How do you mean?” Minato replied.

“Do you think I’m overdressed for this?” she clarified, gesturing to herself. “I hadn’t thought of that when I chose my wardrobe.”

“No more than usual, Senpai. You look fine as you are,” her companion assured her.

Though to Minato, it seemed, more and more, like a universal rule that Kirijo Mitsuru would stand out no matter where she was. And being in line at the local Duck Burger was no exception. He’d thought that she couldn’t look better than when he’d seen her in her swimsuit, with so much bare skin on display coupled with that indomitable confidence. Yet she’d proven him wrong. She’d met him at the dorm’s front doors in a close-fitting pair of capris and a sleeveless, cream-coloured top. A black choker with a ruby in a gold mount set off her eyes and hair, not that they needed it, and her usual boots were replaced with a pair of low-top shoes. He’d felt inadequate from the moment he saw her, dressed in a light blue summer shirt and loose slacks, but she’d smiled at his choice of clothing and asked where they were going, out the door before he could second-guess himself.

They talked about small things as they walked to the restaurant, in no hurry and both wearing sunglasses against the noon-time sun. Minato looked down and noted that they were almost matching in step and stride, and he couldn’t help but think that, to anyone looking at them, they probably seemed like they were a couple on a date. And while the specifics of their outing were a bit too clinical for him to get lost in such an illusion, he was proud to have the striking Kirijo Mitsuru next to him, from when they left the dorm to when they stepped into Duck Burger.

He gave her a brief rundown of what was on the menu, and expected her to choose the salad or a vegetarian dish. She surprised him by choosing a hamburger loaded with lettuce and onions along with a side of greasy fries and a soda instead of water. She’d caught him so much off guard that he watched her blankly for a moment before giving and paying for his own order.

“There’s little point in an experiment if I order the same things that I eat normally, right?” she told him when their eyes met. “And while I doubt I would want this all the time, now and again won’t hurt me.”

“Fair enough,” he told her with a small smile. While they waited, she looked across the menu again, then at the mascot in the corner, and then at the layout of tables and booths. All while male customers of every age and size watched her, sometimes holding up the line. Minato was tempted to chase a few of them off like he had with Elizabeth, but decided against it. She’d wanted the full experience of going to a fast-food restaurant, and a beautiful young woman standing out, even compared to the other students who were watching them curiously, was part of the package.

Their food came and they made their way toward a free booth. Mitsuru-senpai took careful steps as she moved, balancing her tray easily and moving around the other customers. Minato knew that it was an unfair association, thinking that the rich girl wouldn’t know how to hold a fast-food tray properly. Still, he couldn’t help that that’s what he’d expected, or at least some uncertainty from a lack of practice. But she could have been holding her rapier and Evoker for how little trouble it gave her. He watched, close beside her on the off chance that something went wrong, but it proved to be completely unnecessary, and they got to their table without incident.

He slid into his seat calmly, setting down his food and watching as she did the same, though more self-conscious than he was. Then she shifted around in her seat to get comfortable, and Minato wondered if she’d ever sat in such hard plastic chairs before. Either way, once she was comfortable, she carefully set a napkin on her lap and moved her food around on the tray. Burger in the middle, fries to the left, ketchup packets in between the two, and her soda on the right. Minato looked at the design for a moment, then chuckled. Everything was set equally apart, almost like the hour marks on the face of a clock. Even though she was trying something new, some things wouldn’t change on a whim.

“Am I doing something wrong?” she asked, pausing as she reached for a fry.

Minato waved his hand dismissively and reached for his soda. “No, nothing. You’re doing fine so far.”

Relief was in her eyes, alongside appreciation, and her lips turned up in a small smile. “That’s comforting to hear. Thank you again for taking the time to indulge me.”

“No thanks necessary, Senpai. And I’m not indulging you – this is fun. We don’t get to talk much outside of school or work, so this is a good chance to catch up.”

“That would be a welcome change,” she told him, still smiling. “I suppose I can start, in that case. I was impressed by your exam marks. With everything else going on, finding the time to study can’t be easy.”

As he expected from Mitsuru-senpai – starting with their studies and tests where anyone else would have talked about their favourite sports team, or the weather. “Not as hard as you might think,” he shrugged. “Regular reading and notes in class are enough for me. And working as much as we have been just means finding the time elsewhere, right?”

She nodded approvingly, unwrapping her burger. “That’s a very efficient attitude to have. Iori disagrees with you, I think.”

Minato smiled, remembering Junpei’s grousing about the tests before they’d left for Yakushima. “That wouldn’t surprise me. But as much as he might slack off, he’s more than his test marks and grades, right?”

“Of course.” She took up her burger in both hands and began biting into the edge. As she nibbled at her meal daintily, chewing in small, experimental bites, her eyes lit up and her smile became pleased, spreading wider across her face as what she tasted clearly agreed with her. There was a trace of innocence in the gesture, a glimmer of open childishness in the upturn of her lips and cheeks that he’d never expected to see from her, and the sight of it caught his heart in place.

Even worse was the light little chuckle she gave as she ate so happily, a sound that reached him past all the surrounding noise and kept him still. That’s not fair. She was one of the most capable, mature, and responsible people he’d ever met, studying university material and able to speak four different languages, and yet the simple act of eating at a fast-food restaurant inspired a reaction that he could only describe as ‘cute.’ So much so that all Minato could do was watch in a daze, uncaring of whether she saw him.

She was more than a third of the way through her hamburger before she set it down and dabbed at her lips with her napkin. That was enough to break Minato’s fascination with her and focus on his own food, though his heart was still beating fast. Just like at the beach. And that thought didn’t help things as he reached for his drink.

Her next words broke through his reverie and pulled him back into the realm of work, however. “What do you think of Ikutsuki’s decision to invite Amada to the dorm?”

Minato stopped sucking on his straw and let out a sigh after he swallowed and set the cup down. “I don’t agree with it,” he told her simply. “Ken might have the potential, but that doesn’t make him ready to handle what we’re going up against. I know he’s not part of the team yet, but it doesn’t seem any less wrong to have a kid fighting beside us if he does join up.”

“Ikutsuki says that Amada has been studying spear fighting for the past few years,” Mitsuru-senpai commented after eating another fry. “I agree that he is young and certainly lacks the training at the moment, but he is also very determined to help us.”

“It takes more than desire and enthusiasm to do what we do, Senpai,” he pointed out. “And saying he’s ready is pretty different from going up against the real thing.” There was a silence between them as they ate, but his fingers drummed on the table, catching her attention. “Besides,” he continued, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening, “isn’t it odd that we have so many allies now? I thought it was strange when we found Fuuka, but now we have Aigis and a kid at the dorm. I always got the impression that Persona-Users were rare, but we’ll run out of rooms to put them in at this rate.”

“I don’t disagree,” Mitsuru-senpai told him after a moment, her eyes thoughtful. “It is strange that we have so many now when there were only three of us before. I thought finding and recruiting Takeba was a major victory, but then you and Iori awakened to your abilities at almost the same time. It’s an odd turn of events.”

Minato let out a hard grunt. “More mysteries and unexplained conveniences.”

She ran a finger along her cheek, staring at him pensively.“I know how those bother you, but do you feel the same way about Amada? He’s not lying about his past, and I feel that he truly wants to help us, even if he lacks experience as you say.”

“He’s keeping something to himself,” Minato observed. “Normal kids wouldn’t take having a Persona as easily as he is. He’s too steady and calm for what he’s gotten into, and I wish I knew why.”

“I don’t mean to be insulting, but perhaps you’re letting those mysteries bother you more than they should.” He gave her a long stare, and she returned it with a sober look. “I’m quite serious. If you fixate and worry about everything you can’t control, you won’t be able to lead and look after the others. And I think you’re better than that, if I’m being honest.”

Her encouragement did nothing to alleviate his seriousness. “Your confidence is appreciated, Senpai, but if I don’t have information about what’s going on around me, I can’t prepare for problems. If the time comes where we have to take preventative measures and we haven’t considered the need for them before, then we’re operating from a weakened position. I’d rather worry over nothing than gloss something over and suffer the consequences later. Especially where the others are involved.”

She conceded with a quiet ‘hm.’ “You raise a fair point, Arisato. I just hope you’re not treating the others with mistrust because they keep their secrets to themselves. After all, not everyone with SEES is like Aigis.”

Minato leaned back against the seat with a pained groan. “Please don’t mention her.” Their newest member had been difficult enough to handle when they were at the dorm, where there was lots of space and plenty of rooms he could use to avoid her. Her following him to school and enrolling in his class, sitting only a few desks away from his own, that was definitely pushing things. And how his classmates didn’t think that she was unusual, from her unchanging face and voice to those glassy doll’s eyes, he’d never know. In light of all that, her pledge to be near him, spoken in front of the entire room, was practically accepted as normal.

His discomfort brought a small smile to her face, and she chuckled a little when he looked at her. “I apologize. I know you find her unnerving, but her dedication to you is rather charming. Even if we’re not sure where it comes from yet.”

“No news on that, eh?”

She dipped a fry in the ketchup, holding her other hand up in a shrug. “I’m afraid not. Her records at the lab don’t explain why she reacts to you like she does. The engineers and technicians, however, have been concerned with the disappearance of another unit like her.”

Minato stiffened. The thought of another walking tank in a schoolgirl’s body following him around, pledging eternal devotion and service, pulled the blood in his face southward. “Another one?”

“Yes. I don’t have the details, and I doubt I’ll get them since they are calling this an unrelated incident. Ikutsuki is investigating it, but I don’t know what he’ll find.”

He gave another sigh and rubbed at his forehead with a stiffened finger. He needed a drink. “I hope it is unrelated. It would be nice for something to happen by coincidence or by accident for a change. I have enough rumours going around about me as it is.”

That perked her eyebrows up for a moment, like he’d reminded her of something she’d forgotten until that moment. “Actually, speaking of rumours, I heard something unusual that I wanted to clarify.”

“What’s that?” he inquired, sucking on his straw.

“I heard that you’re acquainted with a wealthy, well-dressed American woman,” Mitsuru-senpai told him, voice unchanging as he stopped drinking in a snap. “From what I hear, she was rather fascinated with the fountains at the mall.”

She hadn’t finished speaking when Minato inhaled too hard and choked on his drink, pushing it to the table and falling into a coughing fit. His free hand up to his mouth, he tried to look at her while his eyes watered and his lungs spasmed, trying to clear out his windpipe.

“Are you alright?” she asked immediately, handing him a napkin and looking at him with concern in her eyes.

“I’m fine,” he rasped, taking her offer and coughing harder into it, trying to clear his throat. “You heard what?” he gasped when he could breathe without setting himself off again.

Mitsuru-senpai looked a bit surprised at his reaction, and her eyes reflected her concern, but her tone was casual as she continued. “She spoke excellent Japanese, as I understand it, and seemed to be quite fond of you. What I heard suggested that she was calling you ‘Arisato-sama.’ I’m not criticising, but it seems odd that you dislike Aigis calling you ‘Minato-san’ when a relative stranger addresses you more formally.”

“That’s–“ he started, then stopped as he bit his tongue. It was what? A misunderstanding? A lie? How could he explain the nature of the Velvet Room, of Igor and Elizabeth, to Mitsuru-senpai when he knew so little about it himself? And he was certain, now that he thought about it, that his comrades would have been very interested in the pair given all there was to learn about Personas and the Shadows. And yet they hadn’t commented on the door to the Velvet Room in Tartarus, so how would he come across as? Lying? Elitist? It was proof of a secret he kept to himself because he couldn’t prove that it existed, and doing so made him feel like a hypocrite. “That’s all there is to it,” he told her carefully, picking his words like they were steps through a minefield. “She’s a friend who wanted to see what the mall was like, and I had a free afternoon. I guess you could say that she got a bit carried away when she saw the fountains.”

Her eyes narrowed incrementally, and Minato was worried that he’d stepped onto one of those mines and gotten too carried away. “It’s good that you’re making friends outside of SEES and school,” she told him after a moment. “Do you mind if I ask how you met her, though? She seems a bit outside of your circle.”

“We have a mutual acquaintance,” Minato hedged, feeling his palms sweat and certain that she knew he was lying. And he hated this feeling, especially with her. “It’s hard to explain. But she’s a friend, if a bit eccentric.”

“I see,” Mitsuru-senpai said slowly after a few moments. “It’s not a problem, but hearing about her was a surprise, I’ll admit.”

He tried not to let his relief show. Never mind a bullet, it felt like he’d escaped being fired at by an entire SWAT team.

They discussed mundane matters for the rest of their meal. The restaurant was beginning to get even more crowded as they finished up, and Mitsuru-senpai declared the outing a success as they left. “There are other types of fast food to try out,” he offered as they were on the sidewalk. “Ramen, takoyaki, okonomiyaki, places like that. If you want to try them out, I can come with you whenever you like.”

She stopped and looked at him, pursing her lips with a speculative stare. Finally her focus eased off and she smiled, welcoming and at ease. “I’d like that. Thank you for the offer, Arisato.”

He tried not to let his sense of triumph show too much, but it was difficult at that moment. “Anytime, Senpai.”

“There is one more thing,” she told him, suddenly sober, before he could continue down the street. She looked at him, her gaze direct even through the sunglasses. “I realize that there are many things about what we’re doing that you don’t understand, even more so since you seem to be in the middle of what is happening and none of us know why. But even if you can’t explain something, or are afraid of how it will sound, I will certainly listen to what you have to say. There’s no need to restrain yourself, even if you don’t have the answers.”

Minato stiffened. She’d known the whole time. Much as he’d tried to keep his secrets from her, she knew when he was bluffing. And knowing that she knew didn’t make him feel any better. In fact, it made him feel like trash to be scraped off someone’s boots. “I’m really sorry,” he told her, bowing apologetically. “It wasn’t something I could discuss easily, but you’re very right. I’ll try to be more forthcoming, even with the weird stuff.”

“Good. It’s unnecessary for us to talk around each other. We’re in this together, and you have my support regardless of what answers we find. Friends can trust each other with such things, correct?” She looked at him with an eyebrow slightly raised.

Kirijo Mitsuru was offering him a hand up, a chance that he didn’t think he’d ever get. And he wasn’t about to pass it up. “Of course, Senpai. Gladly.”

 

* * *

 

Minato had gotten used to how weird hunting for Shadows was becoming. Tartarus was familiar ground now, and the fights at the love hotel had been the strangest ones to date, but the memory had lost its edge in the short time since it had happened. He was sure he was ready for the kinds of oddities that the nights of the full moon promised.

Still, an abandoned military weapons depot was a new one on him, and it made him decidedly uncomfortable when he thought of what sorts of trouble a Shadow with a howitzer could throw at them. Images from various American movies involving killer cyborgs in human bodies came to mind as racks upon rows upon rails of automatic rifles showed themselves the deeper into the depot they went.

“The Shadow’s nearby,” Fuuka told them with a frown. “But it seems to be further down from here.”

“I think we’re ready for it this time,” Minato told her with a sidelong glance to Aigis and the gear she was carrying. Weapons that would have sent him to his knees in a second if he’d tried to shoulder them.

When Fuuka first located the Shadow, none of them wanted to take chances given the skills of their last enemy. So they’d put on even more armour and discussed smaller teams and contact methods on the way to the site. Aigis had given them a variety of ideas, but when she’d emerged from her room, no one said a word. Junpei’s jaw had hit the floor while Akihiko-senpai whistled to himself, and Minato wondered how she’d gotten down the stairs without breaking through them. Aigis was dressed in tactical ballistic armour, thick enough that she was almost half again as wide as normal. Straps and bandoleers of spare ammunition crisscrossed her torso and rested in spare pockets on her arms and thighs. She put Junpei’s comment from months before, about automatic weapons and grenade launchers, to absolute shame when they saw that she was carrying more firepower than an SDF platoon. A small automatic rifle was attached to her left arm, a chain of bullets connecting to a box at her hip. Over her right shoulder was a .50 calibre anti-tank rifle, polished and loaded like she’d just finished working on it, and attached to her right hip was an American M79 grenade launcher. As she’d joined them, she moved as easily as she did when they were at school, not a trace of exertion to be found. Even as she’d hauled it all along with them, she never flagged so much as a step.

“Do we know what’s down that way?” Yukari asked, adjusting her belt and Evoker. Her bow and arrows seemed out of place next to the heavily-armed Aigis, but she looked around, more concerned with where they were than with appearances.

“Not yet,” Akihiko-senpai told them. “We couldn’t find any specific blueprints of the place, or the records of what they kept here.” He nodded to one side, where dusty crates of tank shells were stacked. “From the looks of it, though, there might be some vehicles here.”

Minato shivered at the thought, and he wasn’t the only one who did. “Let’s hope the Shadows don’t know how to–“

The main lights, a grimy green in the Dark Hour, suddenly cut out, plunging the depot in darkness amid the surprised shouts of the team. The emergency lights kicked on a second later, bathing everything in red light. Then the main lights flashed back on, accompanied by the grinding of the door behind them.

“It’s closing!” Junpei shouted, running toward it. But it had shut tight just as he reached it, the locks grinding into place and slamming home with a threatening boom that rumbled throughout the storehouse.

“What was that?!” Akihiko-senpai demanded, next to Junpei and running his hands along the seam of the door. “The doors were shut down!”

“Someone reactivated them,” Fuuka told them, horror on her face. “I couldn’t sense them until now, but they’re right outside.”

“Is there any way to get the doors open?” Mitsuru-senpai asked, brow furrowed in an almost-glare at the idea of being set up.

“Not that I can find,” Fuuka admitted. “The controls on this side are broken.

“Should the need arise,” Aigis put in, loading her grenade launcher, “I can destroy key points of the doors and grant us egress.”

“Junpei and I can do the same if it comes to that,” Minato told them. “They might be blast doors, but we can probably melt through if we hit them in one place. That’s the least of our worries, though.”

“How do you figure?” Yukari asked. “We’re stuck in here without a way out.”

Minato pointed further down the building to where the gates had been blown apart. “We have enough oxygen, so we won’t suffocate, and we can get out when we need to. That’s a problem for after we find the Shadow. But, consider this: someone locked us in here, but didn’t attack us first. If they want us dead, then they are expecting the Shadow to do it. It might have heard the doors close or felt the lights go off, and this place isn’t defensible.” He gestured to the crates around them, most of which were stamped with ‘Danger! Explosives!’ The group looked around with a growing sense of dread, and he cleared his throat to keep their attention. “It’s not ideal, but I think it’s best if we find the Shadow before it finds us.”

“Yamagishi,” Mitsuru-senpai inquired, already moving away from the door, “can you tell us anything about the ones who locked us in here?”

“Very little, Senpai,” Fuuka admitted, wiping at her brow with her bandana. “There were two of them, but they were here and gone so quickly that I couldn’t learn very much.”

“How could they have gotten this close to us?” Akihiko-senpai asked as he joined them. “Could they conceal their presence? I’ve never heard of that.”

“Nor have I,” Mitsuru-senpai replied as she drew her sword. “But Arisato makes a valid point – we should tend to what we can, and the sooner we find the Shadow, the sooner we can debate on who did this.”

Minato led them down the tunnel at the back of the depot, his heart sinking when he saw the even bite of tread marks in the ground. And they were too fresh to have come from weeks or even days before. But they followed, looking for cover at each and every step. Cover that was almost nowhere to be found as they descended into the natural cave. Down they went, a growing sense of foreboding with every step. “I wonder,” he murmured to himself, “if it’s too much to hope that the tank the Shadow’s using isn’t–“

The air detonated around them. The shockwave of an exploding tank shell crashed over them over and over, rebounding off the walls. Junpei and Akihiko-senpai responded first, grabbing Fuuka and Yukari and shielding them with their bodies. Minato felt the impulse to do the same with Mitsuru-senpai, immediately looking for her. But she was against the wall across from him, peering down the tunnel while trying to keep out of sight. Aigis was the least affected, unstrapping the anti-tank rifle from her back and aiming down the way.

Another shell detonated the air, but no explosion followed. Whatever was being shot at, it wasn’t them. Junpei and Akihiko-senpai stepped ahead of the girls as Mitsuru-senpai pushed away from the wall. “What’s going on?” the boxer demanded, shaking his head.

Minato was about to say that someone, or something, had gotten there ahead of them, but the air tingled, electricity snapping on the nerves of his arms. A high-pitched ringing sound hit his ears, faint but unmistakable, and it pushed on him like the wind.

“Minato-kun?” Fuuka asked. “What is it?”

Another deafening cannon blast, and more ringing that shivered through his brain despite the agony in his ears. This time there was an enraged ethereal shout laced with radio static. The familiar hissing and chittering was there, but the voice was far more distinctive this time. “Someone’s fighting the Shadow,” he told them, taking two steps forward and not looking at any of them. “Someone with a Persona.”

“How do you know?” Junpei asked, holding his sword and eyeing the gloom nervously.

“Is that possible, Yamagishi?” Mitsuru-senpai demanded immediately, pulling her Evoker free.

“There’s a Persona being used. Minato-kun’s right about that,” Fuuka confirmed, frowning as she focused. “But I can’t pick up anything else. There’s too much noise.”

“Target locked!” an alien voice echoed from down the cave, hissing and rattling and unmistakeably angry. “FIRE!!”

The tunnel shook from the next blast, everyone struggling for their footing and looking at the walls nervously. Minato started walking toward the noise, the Shadow’s voice like a lure. The sound of servos and shifting ammo followed him, settling in next to him as Aigis chambered a round in her rifle. “Please exercise caution when confronting our enemy, Minato-san,” she told him, not a trace of fear in her voice.

“I’ll be fine,” he told her, not looking over. The underground lighting grew brighter as they went down, eerie green light intensifying and the stench of decay and gas fumes growing heavier. The next blast felt like it had hit right on top of them, so close that, once he shook off the ringing in his ears, Minato could hear the frantic turning and grinding and shifting of treads. Another high-pitched blast crashed ahead of them, accompanied by the sound of armour plating hitting the ground. Whoever was fighting the Shadow was still alive, and giving as good as they got.

A different voice rattled in his ears this time, deeper and definitely in pain. “Damage! Left side penetrated, treads at 55% functionality, probability of maintaining pace–“

“That doesn’t matter!” The first one commanded. “Evasive manoeuvres!”

“Impossible given current–“ Another ringing crash. “Further damage! Evasive manoeuvres still unfeasible! Eliminate the target!”

“Two of them,” Minato whispered, massaging his temples and sheathing his sword. “Not again.”

“Due to the explosions, I could not hear what you said, Minato-kun,” Aigis told him, looking over from her rifle’s scope. “Was it pertinent to the mission?”

“It’s nothing,” he replied shortly, not looking over as he unholstered his Evoker. “Just get ready.”

The others braced themselves and came into the open cavern amidst another cannon blast. And none of them liked what they saw.

The Shadows had commandeered a tank, but the vehicle seemed barely large enough to hold its passengers. The turret was hissing spitefully, surrounded by black muck. Two man-sized crates of spare shells were covered in slime, the warning labels on them peeping at the group almost sympathetically. The top of the turret glowed malevolently, a misshapen mass of muscle twisting this way and that as a glowing red dot looked about frantically.

The chassis was, as Minato had heard, a mess. The treads on one side were almost blown completely apart while thin, finger-like appendages tried to drag the pieces back together. Two gaping holes in the tank’s armour showed the Shadow’s black blood and more appendages, clinging to the destroyed plating and pulling it back into place. Minato tried not to look at the Shadow too much, remembering what happened before, but he couldn’t miss the numerous red and yellow eyes staring at him hatefully. The air rattled with the Shadow’s voice now.

“New threats!” one of the bellowed. “Prepare to engage!”

The turret swung, slowly, towards them, the red glow intensifying and showing further scorch marks along the top.

“Previous target has escaped,” the static-laced voice reported. “Current threat level assessed. Prepare!”

“Get ready!” Minato shouted at the others, yanking his Evoker free as the top Shadow locked another round in the barrel and pointed directly at him. He pulled the trigger, feeling another Persona join his own as the cannon fired. Another deafening explosion, and the blast pushed Minato back a good two feet, brain spiking with pain from the effort. But it had worked – the blast had been blocked, and Aigis looked at him with concern, next to him and half the reason the stunt had worked.

But the tactical side of him knew not to waste time with pointless words. They didn’t have the luxury of them as the Shadows shrieked furiously, chambering another shell.

“Junpei!” he yelled. “You’re with me. Mitsuru-senpai, I’m giving you the others!”

The redhead nodded once, even as Junpei looked at the tank for a terrified moment before joining their leader.

“You put yourself at risk needlessly, Minato-san,” Aigis pointed out, still glowing with that unearthly light. “Allow me to take your place.”

A frightening clunk announced the cannon loading, and Minato was joined by Palladion and Hermes to fight off another shell, and another deafening blast. Mitsuru-senpai had taken Yukari and Akihiko-senpai and flanked the tank, blazing blue and burning the air with energy.

“You have the weapons to destroy this thing,” Minato shot back with a glare. “I don’t. Get to work while we keep this thing busy.”

The Shadows shrieked more orders, reporting and arguing furiously. Minato’s ears were ringing so badly that he could barely hear them now.

“Your powers will not be sufficient to fight this threat,” she insisted, loud enough to be heard. “You cannot withstand it for long.”

Junpei swore and brought up his Evoker, preparing for another strike as the others began their barrage.

“Then make it fast,” Minato gritted out with a glare. “That’s an order.”

Aigis stared at him, then rushed off to the open side of the tanks, strafing it with bullets.

“We gonna make it through this?” Junpei asked, dripping sweat and abandoning his sword. He stared hard as the barrel shifted to target the attacking trio. They ran together, staying in front of it and ready to block its shots.

“We have to,” Minato replied. They stopped in the face of another blast, buying time as the detonation punched into their combined barrier. The blend of Personas, Aigis’s grenades and high-calibre rounds, and the damage the Shadows had already suffered began to wear the tank down.

But the Shadow on the turret screamed in rage, bathed them in red as it sent an even stronger blast down the barrel. Minato and Junpei’s next shield broke, blasting them both from the feet and sending them rolling, bodies screaming in pain. Junpei staggered to his feet, holding onto his knee and shaking violently. Minato came to his feet just as another grenade tore into the armour on the other side and the trio behind them unleashed another combined blast. It didn’t stop the turret and barrel from shifting toward them.

A fork of lightning raked across the barrel, tearing into the metal. Minato breathed hard, half-blind from sweat, and tried to prepare for one more shield as the barrel slowly lowered, staring him in the face.

This was it.

The cannon went off. Then detonated in a blast of red as it backfired, knocking them all back a few steps. The Shadow’s shriek lasted only half a racing heartbeat before cutting off abruptly, the explosion igniting the spare shells. The concussive blasts, one after the other and deafening as they echoed throughout the room, destroyed the entire top part of the tank. The Shadow’s cutting red stare disappeared, blown apart with the rest of its body.

Everyone was thrown to the ground, from the noise and the sheer force of the blast. The tank’s motor kept running, however, and turned toward them like a macabre metal coffin, grinding the treads and turning in spasms, slowly approaching to crush them. Minato scrabbled for his Evoker. Junpei was lying face down, covering his ears. And the others were behind them, just as helpless.

Closer. More grinding. Closer yet.

A faint whistle sounded from the side, barely heard by the deafened team. But another explosion blew the remaining treads apart, stopping the tank cold. Minato looked up and felt the sizzling power of a Persona rake across his face.

The only one of them not on the ground. Aigis.

Two heavy explosions ripped into the tank’s rear, blowing the engine to pieces, and another grenade whistled through the air, this time passing the armour plating and sinking into the Shadow’s mass like mud.

The Shadow’s last scream as the grenade detonated drowned out the explosion, the sound of ripped-apart metal and the final echoes of the tanks destruction. The sound died off, finally, and the Shadow began leaking from the tank’s gaping wounds.

Minato and the others pulled themselves unsteadily to their feet, trying to regain their hearing and looking at the steel behemoth, fearful that it would move again. But it was dead, even as they walked around to be sure, often covering their noses at the stench of blasted metal and burnt Shadow. The transfer student shook his head as he saw the damage Aigis had done. There was a lot he didn’t know or trust about her, but there was no denying that she’d saved their asses.

Minato wiped at his face, feeling the grit scrape across his skin as he cautiously walked around the armoured chassis, looking around first and noting that whoever had been fighting the Shadows, they were nowhere to be found. Then he looked into the hole that he’d seen before. Scorched metal and blown-apart plating surrounded the mass of eyes and tendrils, now blinking and retracting weakly. He felt its whimpers, its pain, and it looked at him as its life slipped away, a single large eye persisting as the others closed, one by one. He couldn’t hear any words from it, but didn’t need to. Agony, fear, the knowledge that its life was ending. It all hit him like a blow to the chest, as real as though it were a living person feeling those things, and he tried to push its feelings out of his mind. Much as he tried, he could still feel them, accompanied by a morbid acceptance.

But in a flash those emotions died off. The eye narrowed, staring at him as it tried, in its dying moments, to make sense of something. Then the eye widened in an expression that needed no interpretation or explanation.

Not anger or resentment. But realization. Recognition. It was brighter and clearer than a prison searchlight and held Minato in place.

And then that light died out. The eye froze in place for a brief moment before melting into the black tar-like muck that was oozing out of the holes in the tank and sticking to his shoes. The tank’s armour buckled and caved in on itself with a hard crash that hit them again and again, rebounding off the cavern walls like a sarcophagus lid hitting the floor of a tomb. The silence that followed was heavy, weighing down on him like 6G gravity. The others called to each other and helped each other up, brushing dirt off and tending to wounds. Minato stared at the hole where the eye used to be, still seeing its expression.

He hadn’t imagined it. That had been the first and most comforting solution. But he knew in his heart that that wasn’t the case. There had been a brush against his mind at the moment, a last gasp before it dropped away entirely. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he felt like the Shadow was about to say something with that final breath. A word or phrase that only he could hear, and the thought sucked the joy of victory from him, leaving only a cold dread in return.

What had it been about to say? How did it know him? What was going on?

“Arisato,” Mitsuru-senpai called from several yards away. “Are you alright?”

Minato didn’t hear her. The only thing he heard was that soft inhale, and all he saw was the Shadow’s eye. He slowly approached, feeling colder with every step, and holstered his Evoker before reaching out to touch the armour plating. His fingers shook, and it had nothing to do with the chill from the Dark Hour. Would he see something? Could the Shadow have left something behind as it died? He wanted to know, was tired of being kept in the dark, but was it worth the risk? It could be a trap, like the Shadow in the love hotel. But he wanted to know.

His fingers stopped against the rough plating, and he sturdied himself for a mental backlash, a vision or a sign of any sort.

Nothing. Not a flash of imagery, not a last word, not so much as a breathless flicker. When the Shadow died, it left nothing but a hollowed-out shell.

“Arisato?” Mitsuru-senpai asked again, approaching from the side. “What’s wrong?”

He pulled his hand back and slowly turned to her, his eyes fixed to the hole until he forcibly pulled them over to look at her, dirty and sweaty and worn, but brilliant in the filthy mist of the Dark Hour. A flame of white and red in the night. He smiled shakily as he pointed to the vacant tank at his side. “I’m not sure,” he told her after a few long moments. “It felt like it… like the Shadow knew who I was.”

She blinked a few times, bewildered, as the others began looking for a way out. “It knew you? How?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, unease growing in the pit of his stomach. “It was dying and it looked at me, but it felt like it recognized me at the end.”

“How can you tell?”

The habit was there. He could try to tell her nothing, to ignore her questions or lie about it and pretend that it was just his problem. But their lunch date came back to his mind, how sincere her words were. She’d told him that he could trust her, even with the stuff he didn’t understand, and he needed to talk to someone about this. He turned to face her and squared his shoulders. “I can hear them,” he told her, quiet enough that the others couldn’t hear.

Her eyes narrowed a little at his words, and she rested a hand on her hip. “Hear them? You mean they talk to you?”

“Not all of them,” he replied slowly. It was already feeling strange, talking about this stuff, and the feeling that it was a bad idea slowly grew. But he kept going, refusing to back off now that he’d started. “And not entirely. It’s more like they speak without knowing that I can understand them. The last one in the hotel was different in that respect – it actually spoke to me and tried to keep me under its lies.”

Mitsuru-senpai was silent for a moment, then her eyes widened a hair and she nodded to the empty tank husk. “But even with these two, over the tank fire, you could hear them?”

“Odd as it sounds, yeah. This one,” he pointed to the hole in the hollowed-out armour, “seemed like it was about to say something when it died. And I think it had to do with me.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Since the Shadow on the train. I could hear it, but it didn’t make any sense. It was just white noise. These two, on the other hand, were as clear as you are.” He held his breath a bit, looking at her pensive expression. “I take it that you haven’t had a similar experience.”

“I haven’t,” she confirmed. “The Shadows that I’ve fought seem like they might be trying to speak, but I’ve never heard anything that sounds like words, or even white noise, as you describe it. Even when I was using Penthesilea to assist you and the others, I never heard the Shadows communicate. And Yamagishi hasn’t reported anything like that either.”

Minato sighed. No new answers, and more new questions. “I see. Well, I thought you should know. This is getting very strange, and I could use any help or advice I can get.”

She nodded in return. “Thank you for telling me. I don’t know how I can help you, but I appreciate this not being kept secret.”

“Of course,” he told her automatically, then broached the next most logical question. “But regarding one of the Shadows recognizing me, where does that leave us?”

Her brow furrowed and she crossed her arms thoughtfully, looking to the hole. “Maybe they communicate with each other,” she offered. “The last Shadow tricked us, but it didn’t know Aigis since there’s no way it could have. So perhaps the Shadows pass on their knowledge to each other when they die, and it knew who you were from that.”

“I’m not sure,” he told her after a moment’s thought. “Why wouldn’t they have better tactics if they knew us? And why only show up one or two at a time?”

“I don’t know why they are appearing as they are,” she admitted. “But the last two Shadows relied on deception and narcotics to defeat us, and these two commandeered a fully-armed tank. We can’t say that they aren’t learning or changing in some way.”

“So the next one might be even more accustomed to us,” Minato completed, his face turning grim. “I hope that’s not the case, Senpai, because a Shadow taking over an aircraft carrier would be too much for us to fight.”

She shivered at his words. “Don’t invite trouble, Arisato. Let’s just focus on being ready for the next one.”

He bowed, pushing his thoughts to the side. “Of course. My apologies.”

“Hey!” Junpei called to them from across the cavern. “Seems like there’s an emergency shaft that leads outta here!

“It certainly beats trying to blow through those blast doors,” Minato commented, heading toward the voices of their comrades.

“Another mystery,” Mitsuru-senpai replied, glancing back at where they’d come from as she fell in beside him. “I thought we were the only ones who knew about the Shadows. More Persona-Users raises a great many questions.”

“Layers upon layers,” Minato commented. “I think all we can do, though, is move forward. Everything seems to be tied together at this point, so we’ll find our answers, or they’ll find us, one way or another.”

 

* * *

 

“You’re Arisato Minato, aren’t you?” was the unexpected question.

Minato stopped in hearing his name, turning to the mouth of the alley to address the speaker. “That depends on who’s asking,” he replied, locking eyes with a guy his own age. But instead of slacks and a school uniform, he saw cargo pants and a thick green vest. Very, very green. And slicked-back dark blue hair above a polished pair of glasses.

It had been a rough few days since they’d fought the Shadows in the bunker. The sobering reality of their enemies using conventional weapons and commandeering vehicles raised doubts in how they were going to fight whatever was coming next, and the usual victory dinner afterwards was as tense and uncomfortable as a tea party on a canyon-spanning rope bridge. Food was picked at instead of eaten, and conversation was even less interesting than the traffic updates and public service announcements on the radio at 3AM. They’d dispersed and gone to their rooms before long, and the disconnect between them for the following days was making Minato tense. There were, of course, more questions raised from the Shadows’ deaths, but this time it was the purely practical problems that plagued him. What good were swords against a tank? Or a bow and arrow? What was coming next, and would they have the gear to fight it? He hated admitting it, but Aigis had been a godsend this time. And the thought of relying on her as much or more in future operations left a bad taste in his mouth, enough so that he’d decided to take a walk to the bookstore to clear his head.

“You’re pretty popular at Gekkoukan,” the teen continued, shifting to lean against the brick wall, casually, with his hands in his pockets. He wasn’t intimidating, and that vest looked like it was concealing a thin frame beneath. But the dark eyes behind those polished glasses were smooth and sharp like the obsidian tip of a scalpel. His tone was low and level, and did nothing to put Minato at ease. “Fighting the kendo team, joined at the hip with the Student Council president, and threatened by your classmates in the first few months. Word gets around pretty fast.”

“I know that,” Minato replied curtly, moving toward the wall opposite the speaker to get out of the pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk. His feet was spread and his stance steady, prepared for anything as he focused his senses on the person opposite him. “And I know who I am. Who are you?”

The teen stared at him, emotionless, for a few long moments, before shrugging once. “Shirato Jin. We haven’t met before.”

Minato watched the teen for a moment before giving a dismissive wave of his hand and pushing off the wall. It took two to tango, and he wasn’t about to toy around with a stranger. “Well, best we keep it that way,” he suggested blandly. “I’m too boring to be of any interest to you, so it’s been real.”

Before he could take two steps, however, Shirato gestured for him to wait a moment. “You know the Kirijo pretty well,” the teen noted, a bit more engaged this time. “I hear you’re tight with them, and in with the chairman’s daughter.”

Minato pinched the bridge of his nose, as exasperated sigh escaping before he could stop it. More misleading comments and dancing around the issue. “The first part is common knowledge around school,” he replied shortly. “The second part is none of your business. What do you want?”

Shirato was quiet for another moment before letting out a long breath. “We have something in common,” he told Minato. “Something we don’t tell other people. Maybe you guys have a code of conduct or something about not showing off, but in my case, no one else would understand.”

Minato’s blood went cold. Memories of Mitsuru-senpai’s father and their discussion, human experiments to manifest Personas, immediately came to mind. He leaned back against the wall; leaving wasn’t an option now. “Go on.”

“I want to know why you work for them,” Shirato continued, eyes hard. “The Kirijo are at the centre of your abilities, same as they are mine. And they gave us those abilities without any care for whether we wanted them. They’re using you. So why do you work for them?”

“You mean Personas, I take it?” Minato inquired, keeping his face carefully expressionless. “That’s what you’re referring to?”

Shirato snorted coldly. “What else would I be talking about? It wouldn’t be about their stock prices or their public philanthropy. Though if that’s all you know about it, then maybe you should think of why they know so much about Personas, and what they did to get that far. ”

That sealed it. This person, Shirato Jin, was one of the children in those experiments. Minato’s cold blood chilled even further, and he had to stifle a shiver before replying, choosing his words before he opened his mouth. “I know why they know what they do,” he replied, keeping his tone level. “Why are you bringing it up? We don’t know each other, so your concern seems misplaced.”

“Do you?” Shirato challenged. “How much have they told you by themselves? How much information did they hand over when you got here? Have they really answered all the questions about the shit going on around you?”

Minato was silent for a long moment, holding back his words. He wanted to defend the Kirijo, to give them the benefit of the doubt after his discussions with Mitsuru-senpai. But there was no denying that the suspicions were still there. Aigis. The Shadows. Even the nature of their Personas was something he’d learned from Igor rather than from Ikutsuki. Were the Kirijo giving him information just to humour his curiousity? Were the answers even correct? “I know enough,” he replied finally. “Again, why does it matter? You’ve got a grudge against the Kirijo, but why are you talking to me about it? I don’t know who you are, and you don’t seem to want to change that.”

Shirato smirked, as close to a smile as Minato felt he would ever get. And yet that it was almost a smile made him feel anything but safe or welcome. “So they haven’t told you anything,” Shirato continued, contempt heavy in his voice. “Well, that’s no surprise. But I’m talking to you about it because I figure you must get tired of their shit sometimes, and I have an alternative for you when you are.”

Minato’s eyes narrowed, intrigued. “An alternative? Of what sort? And why would I want to?”

“For when you’re serious about ditching them,” Shirato clarified. “But the first perk is getting rid of that collar around your neck. Second is information, and we won’t hide anything from you. You want to know more about your Persona? So do we. So when we find answers, you’ll get them too. And when we want to act, there’s nothing stopping us. No boardroom approval or paper-pushing bureaucracy. We do what we need to so we can get what we want.”

“How do you plan on doing that?” Minato asked. “If the Kirijo are really behind all this like you say, then where are you going to get the answers? Ask them nicely? Hack their systems and break into their offices? It could be that those answers don’t exist.”

“You’re backing them up?” the teen asked coldly, hard light gleaming off his glasses.

Minato kept his expression level, same as his gaze. “No. I don’t deny that they could still be hiding things. But if I’m going to give up what I have, I need a bit more than promises for answers when those answers might not exist. Could be they burned all their paperwork so no one else could find out what happened. So what else is on the table?”

Shirato tapped the wall behind him, then gave another uncomfortable smile. “Being part of the change that’s going on around here.” He gestured toward the street and all the people walking along it. “You feel it too, right? The people around here, the things happening at night, it’s all going in the same direction. The Kirijo will lie to you and tell you whatever suits them. We won’t. You’ll have a front-row seat when things become too big for them to control, and you’ll get the answers first-hand.”

“You’ve talked about answers a few times,” Minato commented, still trying to put the pieces of this new puzzle together. “But what are the questions?”

“I’m pretty sure you know them already. But if you want assurances, come with us, and find out.”

“Is there a time limit on your offer?”

Shirato took a few moments to answer, blinking a few times before speaking. “A few weeks, max. Any more than that and I can’t make promises.”

Minato smiled, suspecting that it looked hollow, but there was a lot to think on now. “I’ll give it some thought. Where can I find you if I do want to jump ship?”

“The alleys. Come see us when no one else can, and we’ll work something out.”

“Then maybe I’ll see you then. I should go. Chores and obligations, you know.”

Shirato nodded, but didn’t smile as he turned and walked down the alley, turning a corner and vanishing a moment later.

Minato let out a breath and went back over the conversation, trying to make sense of it. Persona-Users moving against the Kirijo? He hadn’t heard of any acts of sabotage from Mitsuru-senpai, so while Shirato sounded like he hated the Group, he seemed more interested in foiling them than destroying them. And those last words came back, burning into Minato’s mind. “Everyone’s going in the same direction, huh?” he muttered. Despite Shirato’s promises of answers, that was just one more question on the table. The Shadows, the Lost, Apathy Syndrome, if they were all connected and going somewhere, rather than just the results of a bad experiment, what was waiting where they all connected?

He sighed. More questions, more possibilities, and nothing to prove that any one theory was right. He pushed off the wall, heading back into the pedestrian traffic and walking toward the book store. He lets his eyes and feet keep him from colliding with anyone, but he turned over this new information and tried to figure out why Shirato made him feel so uneasy.

His musings were interrupted by a harsh grating sound, metal binding on itself. Nearby, a store owner struggled with the roll-down cage above the storefront, holding it so his co-worker could work on the wheels in the rails. Minato thought of the blast doors closing at the bunker and how Fuuka had said it had been Persona-Users who had done it. That she hadn’t been able to sense them until the damage was done was unusual by itself, but to meet someone who’d had a Persona forcibly awakened, and to run into him so soon after that incident… Was it a coincidence? Had Shirato been one of those two? What was his connection to the Dark Hour? Did that mean Shirato was a new enemy on the board? He’d mentioned others, so could one of them have shut the doors?

Minato groaned as he made his way up the steps to the train station. Once again, he was stuck waiting for things to happen. Igor would probably tell him to be patient, that things would reveal themselves in time. And the old man had a habit of being right with his hints and half-truths, always preaching patience.

But Minato was quickly becoming of the opinion that patience and waiting were both very, very overrated.

 

* * *

 

Jin had looked back at Arisato from the edge of the corner, waiting for the transfer student to leave as he put together what he’d seen and felt from the enigmatic transfer student.

Takaya and Chidori had been right. There was something unusual about him, and not just in how he kept things to himself. The first time Chidori had been asked to look at him, she’d had to readjust four times before she could get a read. Jin figured it was her meds messing with her again, but she insisted that she could feel everyone else around him. There was something strange about Arisato. “Clouded,” she’d called him, “like trying to look through dirty water.”

He’d brushed it off, but Takaya wanted more. It hadn’t ended well. Chidori’s second attempt at looking at Arisato had gone better at first, watching him from a building near the train station as he and Sanada finished their morning run. But then she’d screamed so loud and scrambled away from the window like she was on fire, whiter than her dress. Takaya hadn’t known what to do, and when Jin tried to get anything out of her, she just repeated “darkness” over and over again, curled up and shivering on the floor. Any time they’d suggested looking at him again, she’d flatly refused and was nowhere to be found soon after.

Jin turned the corner, going deeper into the alley network and reaching their unofficial home, pausing before he went any further. For what he’d learned about Arisato, it was all data without context. Meeting the Kirijo lapdog in person helped put it all into perspective, purely because he hadn’t let anything show. He knew about the experiments, probably through the chairman’s kid, and he hadn’t brought up the Dark Hour or the huge Shadows he and the others had been killing. He kept his hand close and couldn’t be pressured into making quick decisions, but for all his mystique, he fought on the front lines, probably in every engagement regardless of the size. Once he decided to act, he didn’t let anything stop him.

Jin snorted to himself. And if that power surge from more than a month ago was any indication, when he let loose, all Hell followed in his footsteps.

But that was strange, even now. Takaya had been adamant that the synchrony he’d felt with Arisato was part of who he was, a connection through their Personas that he couldn’t explain. Jin’s experience with it had been less notable, and meeting with Arisato had counted for nothing. No power spikes, no odd feelings or sensations like before, and Moros didn’t respond at all. He could have been talking to a brick wall for all the difference it made.

Despite the cold act though, Arisato had changed his tune when the promise of answers was made. It figured that the Kirijo were playing their old games, like usual, but this lapdog wasn’t the same spoon-fed idiot that the others were. He had a mind and knew that something was going on, and he was only going to get more curious as time went on.

Jin didn’t know what the transfer student would do. He got the feeling that the others at the dorm didn’t either, regardless of how much time they spent around him. Arisato was an unknown variable. A wild card in the deck. And Jin let that warm him from the inside, stir Moros a little and kick up a touch of anticipation in his heart. He was curious to see what Takaya thought of all this.

 

* * *

 

“It’s ready!” Fuuka told him two days later, poking her head out of the dorm’s kitchen. “Thanks for waiting!”

Minato marked the page in his book and set it aside, following her into the smell of miso, vinegar, and burning. It was so nostalgic that it took him a moment to remember that he was planning on eating what had been producing those smells. And when he saw what she’d tried to put together, his ever-analytical mind, growing used to life-and-death decisions, started to put together what she’d tried to make. It looked like what she’d tried to make was stir-fried vegetables, potstickers, miso soup, and curry rice. What he saw, however, was something quite different.

As Minato had told her before, he was no cook. He stayed away from the kitchen, knowing that his skills lied elsewhere, and because he simply had no interest in learning. But he knew from the near-nuclear disasters that his parents had created in the past what she’d done wrong. Rather than boiling the rice at a steady temperature, she’d burnt the water and, if the malformed shapes were any indication, hadn’t let the rice cook for long enough. There was too much miso in the soup and the tofu cubes were already falling apart, the potstickers were breaking apart at the edges, and the vegetables were of a shade he hadn’t seen since ‘Nako promised to make kimchi when he was eight years old. He hadn’t been able to go to school for three days after that, he recalled. Or even stand up straight.

“I know it’s not perfect,” she admitted, looking hopeful from her chair near the kitchen counter, “but it should be pretty good.”

“I’ll give it a try,” he told her calmly, filling up a plate and digging in. Right away, his tongue curled back, trying to get away from the attempt at a sauce for the vegetables. When he ate the rice, he had a harder time swallowing than if he’d tried to put back a mouthful of glue. “It could use some work,” he told her, flexing his jaw so it didn’t feel quite so numb. To her credit, his teeth weren’t aching. That’s when he knew things were bad.

Fuuka looked at him, looking for the positive side of the experience. “Well, I expected that. But it’s edible at least, right?”

“Not really,” he told her frankly, sipping at the soup, so overpowering that it scorched his nostrils, without so much as a grimace. “It’s pretty terrible, in fact.”

Shock registered on her features, and her face fell.

“But,” he continued immediately, “that just means that we need to work on it. And the nice part about being bad at something is that you know exactly what you need to do to get better. Look at it that way and this is a successful attempt, regardless of how it tastes.”

She looked down, shame clear on her face. “You’re just saying that,” she told him quietly.

“No, I’m serious. When you’re already great at cooking, fighting, driving, whatever, it’s hard to improve. But when something doesn’t come easily, then every attempt afterwards is only going to make you better at it.” He wasn’t trying to prove a point, but he took two more bites of the dish, swallowing it easily despite her skeptical look. “Don’t give up on something just because it’s hard. No one’s an expert right from the start.”

Fuuka let out a depressed sigh. “You’re sure? This is progress? It doesn’t seem fair, given how you and Mitsuru-senpai fight so well.”

Minato held up a finger to stop her train of thought. “Fighting and cooking have nothing to do with each other. If I tried making this, I’d probably have done it worse. And, again, we’re good at things because we kept practicing. When I first started kendo, I kept tripping over my own feet. I’m sure Mitsuru-senpai had trouble with it at first too. Same as Akihiko-senpai with his boxing, or Yukari and her archery. You just have to keep at it and you’ll get there.”

She looked at him, trying to wallow while looking for the sarcasm, the hidden dig in his voice. His sincerity showed through, however, and a small smile began to work its way across her lips. “Thanks, Minato-kun. You don’t have to eat that, by the way.”

“It’s not so bad,” he told her, ignoring the familiar, nostalgic feeling of his stomach cramping up, but nowhere near as bad as it had been in his youth. “And it would be a waste to throw it away after getting this far.”

She watched in disbelief as he put back all her food, but his steady humour kept her smiling even as she insisted that what she’d made shouldn’t be eaten. But as he finished the food and helped her with the dishes, there was an easy smile to her features that he hadn’t seen since Yakushima, and it distracted him from the churning concoction in his stomach. By the time the others were wrapping up their respective meals, the pair were joking and talking about school like nothing had happened, so much so that the others hadn’t believed that she’d tried cooking, and that had gone as bad as she said, until they stepped into the kitchen. Minato had been able to scour the rice from the bottom of the pot, but even he couldn’t ventilate the smell from the room.

Fuuka hooked up with Yukari after that, talking about girl stuff and whatever it was that Yukari needed Fuuka’s help for, and Minato headed back to pick up his book. A head of brown hair, however, still an unfamiliar sight in the dorm, distracted him and tugged at his mind. He hadn’t taken much time to talk to the boy yet, unsure how to handle someone in grade school. Still, Ken was here for a reason, and it wouldn’t hurt to show some initiative.

He walked over to the couch, leaning back against the seat across from their new guest. “Amada,” he greeted with a nod and a smile.

“Good evening, Arisato-senpai,” Ken replied immediately, returning the nod.

Senpai. That always felt odd to Minato, like he wasn’t old enough to be looked up to yet. “There’s something I wanted to ask, if you have a minute.”

Ken sat up on the couch, straightening his posture and looking calm and expectant.“That’s no problem. What is it?”

“Why us?”

Ken looked confused, blinking before replying. “I’m sorry?”

Minato gestured to the space around them. “You know we’re not a normal dorm, that we don’t house other students because of their family connections or grades. Of all the places you could live, why choose this one?”

“I want to learn to use this power, Senpai,” Ken admitted, looking up with clear but determined eyes. “I have it, and it’s not going to go away, and it’s not something other people would understand. You and the others know the most about it, right?”

“We know more than nothing,” Minato corrected. “There are still a lot of unanswered questions.”

Ken shrugged comfortably. “It’s more than what I could do on my own.”

“You could suppress it, you know,” Minato pointed out. “Ignore the Dark Hour and live a normal life.”

The boy looked uncomfortable then, his voice going quieter. “That’s not really an option for me now, Senpai. I’ve been talking to Yukari-san and Sanada-senpai, and we think that being normal isn’t an option for anyone with a Persona. Like we all gave up something or lost what we loved as a trade-off.”

“That makes sense,” Minato conceded. “What will you do when you do learn to control it?”

“Help you and the others as much as I can,” he replied immediately, perking up.

The boy’s determination made Minato sigh. He still didn’t like the idea of a kid joining them in the fray. “Why? You don’t owe us anything, and the Kirijo Group, to say nothing of the government, would put you up and support you through school.”

Ken’s eyes lit up and he gestured to Akihiko-senpai, who was talking to Mitsuru-senpai across the room. “I’ve heard of Sanada-senpai from lots of people, so meeting him is kind of a big deal. I figure that if I can get to know him and help everyone while I’m learning about having a Persona, then it can’t be wrong, right?”

Minato stared at the boy, realization sprouting in his mind. Wanting to help them before he knew them? Hide one part lie with eight parts truth. It jumped out at him the moment Ken said the words, and his heart told him the words weren’t just a badly-formed sentence. “I see your point,” he told the boy slowly, tapping a finger on the arm of the couch. “But is Akihiko-senpai the only reason? I don’t think they charge admission to see him fighting, so you could always do it that way.”

Ken looked a little awkward, scratching the back of his neck. “That’s… That’s true. It’d be uncomfortable to go to a high school just to see him, though. I guess the other reason is that there’s something I want to know,” he told Minato, looking serious. “It has to do with why I have this power in the first place, something that was never answered properly. I want to find that answer.”

That made sense. Most of them had similar questions to that effect, and it was hardly worse than Minato’s own unusual abilities. “And you think you’ll find it here?”

There was a flicker of something on Ken’s face, like flashes of an old-style theater projector with anger, sadness, grief, and hate on the reel. Then they were gone and the boy looked up with his usual smile, but this time without the usual calm or levity. “I think I have the best chances here, yes.”

The older student ran his tongue along the edges of his teeth, incisor to canine to molar and back. “What will you do when you have the answer?” he inquired after a moment.

Ken’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, those expressions flashing and disappearing even faster this time before being covered over with a pleasant calm. “I haven’t decided yet,” he replied quietly.

Minato’s eyes narrowed by a hair. The kid was trying to cover his reasons for coming to the dorm, mixing the deception in with enough truth to come across as genuine. It was easy to see why he’d gotten past the others, and his admiration of the others seemed genuine. But he’d just run into someone who lied the same was as he did, and the older of the pair had a lot more experience with it.

“Is that so?” Minato asked coolly, focused on Ken’s expression. “Well, don’t let it sit for too long. It’s better to have an open mind about things. Sometimes the answers aren’t what you want or expect.”

Ken bowed respectfully, concealing, Minato noted, his expression as best he could. “Thanks for the advice, Senpai. But I’ve thought about this a lot, so I’ll be ready to deal with it when the time comes.”

Deal with it. Not ‘consider the possibilities.’ Minato grimaced and excused himself, returning to his book without looking at the pages. Ken was keeping things to himself, more than Mitsuru-senpai knew. But she said she’d talked to him. Had Ken lied to her? Did she see something he didn’t? Or was this a strange development for their new resident?

Minato sighed. This was getting exhausting. He wanted to believe Mitsuru-senpai and give Ken the benefit of the doubt, but everything he knew told him that the boy was keeping something big to himself, and it wasn’t as small as sneaking cookies before dinner or not brushing his teeth. It was big, probably personal, and precisely what he didn’t need right now, on top of everything else.

He shook his head, closing his book and heading for the stairs. Maybe some sleep would help. After some temporary, metal-inspired deafness. Both sounded perfect right now.

The music had been a very welcome distraction, but sleep was a long time coming. Same as when Aigis had been on his mind at Yakushima, Ken’s evasiveness and the chill in his bones that meeting Shirato gave him lingered, keeping his mind from drifting off. He could have blamed Fuuka’s cooking for indigestion, but he’d been telling her the truth – he’d eaten much worse with more frequency when he was younger. What she’d made couldn’t come close to what ‘Nako and his parents concocted.

That brought a frustrated growl to his throat as he turned over again, trying to tire his mind enough to get some sleep. But that only kicked in his second wind, and he pushed up to a sitting position on his mattress. What was bothering him? No, that was a loaded question. He knew what was bothering him. It was more that the list was getting longer, and he was, again, feeling left in the dark while events orchestrated themselves around him, just out of sight and reach. Shirato, Ken, the Shadows in the tank and the doors slamming shut behind them. And the voices. ‘Find it!’ they had said. Someone, or something, had gotten to the Shadows before SEES had. Someone had fought them, but disappeared just before they arrived. Had the gates slamming shut been for their group? Or was it for whoever had gotten there first? And what could fight two Shadows sporting military-grade firepower and get away in one piece? Where was this person?

Minato groaned, flopping back into his bed. More questions, and he was no closer than before to answering the concerns he already had. “Why me?” he asked the night. “What does this have to do with me?” But his sensei’s voice responded in his ears, carried on the currents of memory and time. He’d asked that same question once, why he had to represent his middle school in kendo when he had no interest in bolstering a team of kids who’d wanted him gone. “Because it’s important, Arisato. You can learn something from it, no matter what the outcome is. And who else would you trust to do it?”

He blinked, reining in his mind enough to follow that train of thought. Who else could he trust to lead the team? Mitsuru-senpai came to mind immediately, and he knew that she could handle what they were facing. But he thought of the others anyway, cataloguing their strengths and weaknesses as best he could. Maybe it would tire his mind if he thought about it hard enough.

Junpei was out. The student had come a long way since they’d met, but he wasn’t a leader. When things changed too fast around him, he got caught up in the details and couldn’t react as fast as he needed to. Yukari was the same way. She was too fiery and got tangled up in the unexpected. They were both excellent friends and allies, but they couldn’t distance themselves from what was going on to take the bigger picture into account. Fuuka… Minato gave a low ‘hmmm’ when he thought of her, but passed her over after a minute of thought. She got along with the others, but she wasn’t a leader by ideal or by example. She didn’t like putting herself forward and seemed content to help everyone else as best she could. Akihiko-senpai could have led the team, but Minato knew that the boxer often fixated on things. He focused hard on what was in front of him, and sometimes that meant losing perspective.

No, Minato decided as his mind finally began to drift off. Everyone else on his team was a necessary part of the puzzle, but the only one he trusted to lead them was Mitsuru-senpai. She knew the Shadows and the situation, and could adapt as needed to. She seemed content where she was, and Minato wouldn’t push her unless he was desperate, but when the chips were down, he knew he could trust her.

And that thought warmed him from the inside, making him drowsy and pulling into slumber. He trusted Kirijo Mitsuru, and he knew that the feeling was mutual.

 

* * *

 

He jerked in place, eyelids slowly opening. He had no idea what woke him up, but he had barely a minute to realize where he was before the thin line of air ran over him and his next breath brought in the stench of rotting garbage. He was sandy-eyed and groggy, trying to dismiss the Dark Hour and capture that elusive connection to sleep, but it was lost. A weak groan rumbled in his throat, his hand rising to rub at his eyes and run across his face.

His Personas were quiet, there were no Shadows around, and he was left staring at the wall next to his bed, his mood sinking with the temperature. Just one night’s sleep. That’s all I ask, he groused to himself. But when he couldn’t nod off again, he turned over to get out of bed.

When he did, Aigis, brilliant in blond and white right next to his bed, stopped him like a loaded gun. He saw her, then kicked back in a flash, crashing into the wall and staring at her as his heart raced wildly.

“I apologize,” she told him in that unnervingly monotone voice, staring at him with glassy eyes. “I did not intend to startle you.”

“What’re you doing here?!” he snapped, still pushing himself against the wall and staring at her, wide-eyed. “Who let you in?”

“Ensuring your security,” she replied immediately, not moving, not changing her tone, not so much as blinking. “The Dark Hour is dangerous, and your safety is my primary directive.”

Minato’s muscles finally loosened, though his breathing was still fast, and he looked past her to check his door, but it was too dark to see anything. “Then change your directives,” he told her coldly. “I don’t need your help, and I don’t want someone breaking into my room to watch me in the middle of the night.”

“It’s no imposition,” she assured him, completely monotone.

“I don’t care if it’s an imposition, Aigis!” he snapped, pushing off his bed and glaring at her as he stood. “It’s about trust and respecting someone’s space. If you can’t follow orders when I tell you to leave me alone, how am I supposed to trust you?”

“My reliability in combat is without question,” she assured him, stepping back only so she wasn’t crowding him, but otherwise making no effort to leave his room. “The others have exhibited no discomfort with me, and Yukari-san and Fuuka-san seem to enjoy my company.”

Minato snorted and glared at her. “Do you spy on them in the middle of the night?”

“No.”

“That’s probably why. Out. Now. And don’t come in here again.” When she didn’t move, he grabbed her shoulders, turned her around, and started pushing her toward the open door. It was harder than he expected – the Dark Hour and being startled awake with so little sleep left him light-headed, and his balance was almost shot. She was also heavier than he expected, and a lot colder. The difference only made him push her harder.

“Why does my presence here offend you so much, Minato-san?” she asked, head tilted to the side as she slowly gave into to his orders and started to walk on her own.

“You were in my room without being invited, Aigis,” he pointed out frostily as he shoved her through his door and into the hallway. “I remember telling you not to do that.”

She turned to stare at him, head tilted to the side a little. “My observations indicate that you have disliked me since we met at Yakushima. What have I done to earn this mistrust?” There was a small hitch in her voice, like his rejections had hurt her feelings.

Minato looked at her and felt a small tug on his heartstrings. She sounded a little lost and genuinely curious, a crack of emotion in her glassy eyes. What Fuuka said to him, about her needing to learn how to be human, came back to his mind. Aigis was, if one listened to the others, trying to become more like them without having any experience direction. And she had been invaluable against the Shadow, yet here he was, giving her the cold shoulder based on a feeling. Normally that would have made him feel like an S-rank jerk.

Sympathies or not, though, it didn’t change the cold, churning unease in his stomach, nor the way his breath stopped when he looked at her. She worried him, put him on his guard, but he had no idea why. And back at Yakushima his Personas had reflected his unease. Some responded to her, some slept undisturbed, and the contrast only made him more nervous. They were awakening even now, prickling his skin and crashing around in his head like they all wanted to watch her at the same time in case she did anything.

“Think on it,” he told her shortly. “Maybe you’ll figure it out.” Not caring who heard, he slammed his door shut and threw the locks in place. By the time he pulled his spare chair from the corner and locked it under the door knob, he heard someone’s door open, probably Akihiko-senpai’s given how lightly he slept, and heard Aigis respond to his questions.

Minato didn’t care. He drowned out their conversation by opening the cold water tap to the fullest, the rush of water filling his ears. His stomach turned from the vertigo of the Dark Hour and from being startled awake, so he washed his face. The icy water was like the cold hand of a god against his flushed skin, and he knelt in front of the sink, resting his face against the smooth, cool porcelain as his hands stayed under the tap, soaking up the cold. Minutes passed, though how many he didn’t know. He felt off from the Dark Hour, but, finally, his stomach settled and he rose to shut the water off and wipe his face with the nearby hand towel. When he looked in the mirror, another set of eyes stared back.

“Good evening, Big Brother,” Pharos greeted from Minato’s bed. The kid looked like he belonged there, sitting on the edge of the bed, legs hanging over the edge while he wore those prison-striped pajamas. The sickly light from the moon set off his hair with bright, ugly mix of yellow-green and pale blue that surrounded him and his unnerving smile, which no longer bothered Minato, like an aura.

Minato let out a breath, shaking his head and closing his eyes before turning and looking to his guest, leaning back against the sink. “Should have known you wouldn’t show up with her around.”

Pharos looked toward the door, then back to the teen. “She doesn’t matter as much as you do,” he said calmly. “As strong as she is, she wouldn’t understand what I have to say.”

Minato gestured toward his door. He couldn’t hear Akihiko-senpai and Aigis anymore, which was probably just as well – being overheard talking to himself from the others wouldn’t help his case in the morning. “Does the same go for the others? Mitsuru-senpai and Yukari don’t know who you are, but I’ve never seen you outside of the dorm.”

That got a nod from the boy. “That’s right. They can’t do the things you can, so you’re the one I talk to. It’s as simple as that.”

It did make sense, Minato conceded. He didn’t think that Junior was telling him everything, but nor did it feel like he was being lied to. “What about someone who isn’t here in the dorm? Would they be able to help you?”

Pharos tilted his head and gave a thoughtful ‘hmmm.’ “That’s a rather specific question. What do you mean?”

“I met someone the other day,” Minato told the boy after thinking through his words. “A Persona-User who seemed to know a lot about the Dark Hour. And he’s not part of our team. ”

“People like your friends are quite rare,” Pharos commented, but his expression didn’t change. “But using a Persona isn’t unique to you.”

“From what I understand, he might have been pushed into developing a Persona when he was young,” Minato continued. “And if he knows about the Dark Hour, maybe he knows about the Shadows as well. What do you think about that?”

Pharos frowned for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess it happens. Not everyone has your gift. Some use their powers to fight the Shadows, like you do. But others would use that power to understand the Shadows, or to hurt other people. Some have it and don’t know it, or don’t understand what it means.” The boy straightened and looked at Minato then, with the same enigmatic, chilling smile as when they’d first met. “But they don’t matter. You can do things that none of them can, Big Brother. And that’s why I come to you and not them: I need your help with something.”

Minato pushed away from the sink and stood in the middle of the room, staring at the boy directly. This was the chance to get some answers, and he wasn’t going to pass it up. “What is this thing you need help with?”

Pharos hummed to himself, looking to the ceiling and swinging his legs back and forth over the edge of the bed. “There are people who want something,” he said finally, looking back at Minato, “and they ask for it. Call for it. There are so many of them that it’s impossible to ignore, like if all the students in your school were outside your room right now, calling your name at the same time. Over and over. I’m here to help them get what they want, and I need your help to do it.”

The way he worded it made Minato shiver, leaving him with a cold, hard weight in the pit of his stomach. It sounded like what Shirato had been talking about before. “What is this thing that they want?”

Junior lifted his arms in a shrug. “It’s hard to say. Some want it because they’ve tried other things and they don’t work, so they come back to where they started. Others have wanted it from the start because they can’t see beyond where they are. And some want it because other people do. I guess the best way to explain it is that it’s a change. An end to one thing so that something else can happen.”

Minato scratched the side of his face, glad that he was getting somewhere but still feeling like he was walking in the dark. And that cold feeling didn’t subside. “What’s needed to get this change to happen?”

Pharos lifted a hand, pointing out the window. “The large Shadows you’ve been fighting. They need to die. And you’re the best person to do it.”

Minato blinked and waited for the boy to continue. He didn’t. He just stared with those intense eyes. “That’s it? You just want me to keep killing Shadows?”

“That’s right,” Junior confirmed with a nod. “And it shouldn’t be a problem, since they’ve been coming to you. Just keep doing what you’re doing and the rest will handle itself,” the boy declared with a cheery smile.

Minato raised a hand, again indicating the rest of the dorm. “Okay, but what about everything else that’s going on? These other Persona-Users, Tartarus, Aigis. I don’t even know where these Shadows you want me to kill came from. What about all that?”

“None of it matters,” Pharos assured him, smile growing wider.

It should have been a pleasant sight. Minato got the impression that Junior meant for it to be comforting or encouraging. But all it did was send an icy shiver trembling down his spine, intensifying that cold weight and growing into a growing sense of dread.

“You’re all that matters, Big Brother,” Pharos continued, eyes edged in the unearthly light pouring in from the window. “And you’ll handle everything as it comes. I have faith in you.”


	7. Balestra

Voices. They’d kept him up half the night, cost him any kind of proper rest for the past week, and they were the last thing he needed when he woke up that morning, glaring through cat-thin eyes at the sun and wishing it had an ‘off’ button. Curtains and burying his face into his pillow did nothing to cure his wakefulness, however, and it sounded like there was a meeting going on in the first-floor foyer. Right beneath his room, as luck would have it.

Minato rubbed his face with a disgusted growl and pushed out of bed, throwing his clothes on and pushing his hair into a measure of order while cursing the thought of a before-breakfast strategy meeting. He went down the stairs with a tired ‘Good morning’ and would have gone to the kitchen if the lack of an answer from the full room hadn’t caught his attention. None of the team was that impolite, after all. Groaning inside, he turned to see what the problem was.

Akihiko-senpai and Junpei were leaning against the dinner table, talking quietly but looking at Aigis, who was standing at attention near Ikutsuki and talking to Yukari. Fuuka glanced toward Minato but didn’t meet his eyes, and Mitsuru-senpai was reading on one of the couches while glancing at the others with an unreadable expression. Ken was nowhere to be seen.

“Arisato,” Ikutsuki began after clearing his throat. “I’m glad you’re here. We should discuss the matter of Aigis, given the incident last night. Akihiko gave me the details already, so I’d like your input on this situation.”

Minato stifled a yawn and cracked his arms and hands with a slow twist. “Are we locking her in her room? Shutting her down when there’s nothing going on?”

Yukari and Ikutsuki looked a bit surprised at his bluntness, and her eyes narrowed a bit while the dorm administrator kept his tone steady. “Aigis doesn’t ‘shut down,’ actually. She sleeps and recovers, but she’s not a machine with a power switch.”

“Or a working command prompt,” Minato noted, widening his stance a little after he rubbed his eyes. “What are you doing about that, by the way?”

“She’s not the only one who needs to a behaviour check,” Yukari snapped. “She might be different from us, but that doesn’t make her less a part of the team. You don’t get to tell her off or slam a door in her face because she makes a mistake.”

Her voice grated on his growing headache, for once not because of his Personas, and Minato’s eye narrowed. “Can I come into your room during the Dark Hour then? Let myself in and stare at you while you’re sleeping without asking first?”

Yukari instantly turned as red as she’d been in the hotel a few months back. “W-what!? Of course not!”

“Then keep Aigis out of my room,” he replied shortly, “because I don’t like it either.”

There was a faint creak and whir of gears as the mentioned member turned to him. “It was not my intent to cause discomfort. If my actions have affected team cohesion, I deeply apologize.”

“No one asked,” Minato snapped. “Especially not if your apologies don’t keep you in your room at night.”

“Give her a break already,” Yukari told him, coming forward. “It’s what she does to make sure you’re safe. I get that this is unexpected, but she’s trying to learn how to be more human. And if it’s something familiar for her, then you could be a little bit understanding about she feels.”

“This is getting out of hand,” Akihiko-senpai told them, which only ground Minato’s teeth down harder. “The situation with Aigis needs work, and we’ll try something else until we get it right. Until then, we don’t need anyone to fly off the handle. We don’t know why she’s got a thing for you, but that’s how it is.”

“No,” Minato spat back, turning his glare to the senior and feeling his ire twist and build on itself. “No, that’s not how it is. We have a walking tank with a Persona living here and we don’t even know why. She woke herself up, she found us, she doesn’t have the limits on her weaponry that we do, and no one’s giving us any answers to the obvious questions. Why are you okay with this? Because she hasn’t broken into your room yet?”

Akihiko-senpai looked a bit surprised by Minato’s tone, and his face set into a cold stare. Junpei backed away with his hands up in a ‘not my problem. Leave me out of it’ gesture, and Fuuka had turned her back to them, her hands twisting together.

“I suggest we calm down and rethink the situation before we start saying things we don’t mean,” Ikutsuki told them, stepping forward and halting Yukari and Akihiko-senpai’s words with an outstretched hand. “It’s a unique set of circumstances, and we have calls into people who are working at it. It’s unfortunate that you feel that you’re being singled out, Arisato, but please try to be patient.”

“I don’t ‘feel’ like I’m being singled out,” he stated slowly, trying to keep the venom out of his voice. “I am being singled out, and I want to know why. Same as I want to know everything we haven’t been told so far. What is her mission? To protect SEES? If Aigis were following the group leader, why hasn’t Mitsuru-senpai gotten any late-night visits? I haven’t heard of her in Fuuka’s room, so obviously being a friend isn’t part of the criteria either. What is the reason behind all this? Has anyone returned our calls?”

“The files on her have been difficult to find,” Ikutsuki replied with his hands out in a shrug, “and what we have shows nothing on why she’s attached to you. There was a lot lost when the Shadows broke out ten years ago, so it might be that we don’t have the answers you’re looking for.”

Minato looked expectant, waiting for more to the answer, but nothing came. “And no one bothered to try and recover that data?” he demanded. “No one inquired about the human-looking weapon sleeping in the basement? What about the other one that broke out a few weeks ago? Where is it?”

“She,” Ikutsuki corrected. “She’s a similar model to Aigis. And she’s not relevant to our operations right now, so we don’t have that information.”

“It’s an Anti-Shadow Weapon,” Minato pointed out, slowly stressing each word as cold incredulity chilled the air around him. “It is relevant to us. If the Group isn’t going to treat us like we’re on the same team, then why are we on the front lines in the first place?” Mitsuru-senpai gave him an unreadable look, but Minato had the bit in his teeth. “Or is the answer to that one missing too? What else doesn’t anyone know? Maybe this other robot will have a car-sized sword and do our job for us so we can get some sleep at night.”

“You’re acting like a little kid now,” Yukari noted. “The situation’s weird, sure, but that doesn’t mean that it’s got anything directly to do with you.”

Her words earned her an eye-roll and a flat, sardonic look. “That would be a first, wouldn’t it? But it raises the question: if the Kirijo have all these killer robots with Personas, why are we even here? We’re not machines; some answers would be nice.” When he thought of it that way, Shirato’s offer wasn’t looking too bad. Searching for answers whenever he wanted was sounding a lot better than not having them at all.

“We’re looking into things, Arisato,” Ikutsuki told him, patience wearing thin. Yukari’s ire was still present, but she’d curbed her reply and looked a bit troubled from Minato’s words. “There’s more to the Group than what happens here.”

“You’re looking,” Minato parroted. “And so far you haven’t found anything. What’s the hold-up?”

“Enough,” Mitsuru-senpai told them, rising from the couch and walking forward until she was standing between them, create an area around her that no one pushed into. “This is getting us nowhere. Arisato, meet me outside.”

Minato went quiet for a second, surprised at her interference, then grit his teeth and shot back. “Don’t you dare brush this off, Senpai.”

“I’m not,” she told him with a direct, don’t-screw-with-me stare. “You’re angry and you look like you didn’t sleep at all last night. Yelling about this isn’t going to change anything, though, and we don’t need an incident like this getting in the way of our operations. Team cohesion comes first. Now, meet me outside.”

He wanted to keep going, to vent all the frustrations that had plagued him, from Tartarus to Aigis. But she was, and always had been, in his corner, and he wasn’t going to mess that up. He nodded to her, bit his tongue, and headed for the door without looking at the others. He heard her address the trio before he made it to the shoe mat.

“Until we can find the answers to Arisato’s question, she’s to be contained at night,” she told Ikutsuki over the immediate objections. “I don’t care how useful she is. Arisato’s questions are valid, and pertinent to what’s going on here. It’s a disgrace that we don’t have those answers yet, so find them. Speak to my father if you have to.”

“Minato-san’s protection is my primary objective,” Aigis told her. “I will not compromise on any of my directives. To be restrained from that duty is to put him in danger.”

“He can look after himself. Until we get some answers, my decision stands.” Aigis tried to protest, but Mitsuru-senpai’s voice hardened. “I’ll pack you up and send you back to the labs in a crate if I have to. Do not argue with me.”

Minato choked down a laugh, his mood immediately lightening as he laced up his shoes and pocketed his wallet. Much as he wanted to hear what else she had to say to Yukari and Ikutsuki, it would be juvenile if he stood there and watched her berate them like a child sticking his tongue out from behind his mother’s skirts. After pulling his sunglasses on and stepping outside with a faint ‘See you guys later’ to the others, he waited at the edge of the sidewalk, facing the door and wondering when Senpai would arrive. Then he looked down at his tossed-on shirt and slacks and grimaced – he was hardly dressed for any special occasion.

A few minutes later he turned when a familiar gas-powered growl rolled in from around the corner, a leather-clad Mitsuru-senpai astride her motorcycle, approaching him in first gear. She looked over at him, her head bare, and handed him a helmet that matched the one on her lap. “I had to guess at your size, but the shop owner was very confident that this would fit you,” she told him as she straightened her leather jacket.

Minato took the helmet and used the moment to look her over. Unlike before, she wasn’t wearing her leather suit. Instead her jacket was separate from her leggings, and when he glanced down to the seat of the motorcycle, he saw dark blue denim continuing from the ends of the chaps, rocking back and forth as she scooched forward to give him room.

He’d never have thought that Kirijo Mitsuru owned a pair of jeans, let alone would wear them on a hot summer morning. How wrong he was.

“It’s good to see that you got it repaired,” he commented as he looked over the bike. If he hadn’t known it had been bent like a paperclip by half a tonne of Shadow, he never would have guessed.

“We go back a long way,” she told him, patting the side of the gas tank affectionately. “I wasn’t going to leave her in pieces.” She pulled her hair back and got her helmet in place, indicating behind her. “Get on.”

“Do you have somewhere in mind?” he inquired as he followed suit, carefully mounting behind her and adjusting his feet and legs, getting used to the vibration underneath him.

“It’s a secret,” she told him as she turned back to look at him. “You’ll have to hang on; where we’re going is a fair ways away.”

He blushed as he hesitantly nodded, looking at her and wondering where he could put his hands. Her familiar smell mixed well with the scent of her leather, and he was reminded of their sparring match and how close she’d gotten. He could still feel her hand on his arm from that day, and worse, he remembered in vivid detail how she looked and felt while wearing her two-piece swimsuit. “Right,” he told her unconvincingly.

She picked up on his hesitation, and he thought he could hear a smile in her voice. “Is this your first time?”

“Yeah. I usually walk or take the train.”

An understanding nod. Then she reached back and took his hand, bringing it to her side and placing it firmly on her hip. “You’re going to want to hold on tight,” she advised, moving his hand around until he got a good grip. “We’ll be going on the highway, and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

He nodded and set his other hand on her hip, sweating a bit at the feel of her under the leather. He focused on the sound of her voice as she told him about keeping balance on the bike, leaning into the turns, and, of course, holding on. “I think I’ve got it, Senpai,” he told her after he repeated a few of the points back to her.

“Good,” she told him, kicking the shifter down and setting them in motion as she settled forward.

It was slow going as they rode through the city, catching a few red lights where she taught him about stopping and how he could react to the changes on momentum. It didn’t take long for him to get the hang of it, though, and it was easy to see why she liked riding: the freedom was invigorating. When they got to the main drag and the bridges leading out of town, she firmly patted his hand to make sure he had a solid grip. Then she geared up and proceeded to fly through traffic, weaving between lanes and leaning into the turns at a speed high enough to make him press against her.

He didn’t talk to her, didn’t distract her, and just let the road fly by beneath them, and sky above and the water around them were nothing but a blur of blue. The wind whipped around them as they danced from point to point, the machine under her complete control. It was terrifying and exhilarating, and part of him didn’t care if they crashed – going this fast and having his blood up was well worth it.

It was with a tinge of disappointment that he noticed they were slowing down, taking side roads and pulling into a small gravel parking lot. He waited until Mitsuru-senpai pulled to a stop and nodded for him to get off. Once he was, she joined him after standing her bike and killing the engine, patting the handlebars affectionately before taking off her helmet and nodding to a narrow stone path through a copse of trees.

Minato followed, pulling off his helmet and catching a heavy whiff of the sea, hearing the tides nearby. “Where are we?” he asked, the sound of his footsteps lost in the clicks of her boots.

“My little secret,” she replied, standing out of the way so he could take in the view.

And what a view it was. The whole of Tatsumi Port Island could be seen, from the mall to the school to the dorms and the restaurant strip malls. They were on a hill overlooking the city, the farm of windmills the only thing to hinder the scene. Minato’s hair was brushed to the side by the heavy breeze that pulled at his clothes and whistled along his skin. The sun was dazzling, reflected on the water in shards like the pieces of a broken mirror, and he felt the memory of his headache fade away. Even the argument he’d had less than an hour before seemed like a distant memory. “It’s beautiful,” he told her, turning to see her sitting back on a wooden bench.

“This spot has the best view,” she told him, legs stretched out and a look of content relaxation on her face. “There’s no place quite like it.”

She was right. The roof of the dorm, the trains, even the high-rises and offices that he’d been in; none of them had a view this open and liberating. “You come here often?”

“When I need to think and the dorm’s too busy,” she supplied. “This is the first time I’ve been able to come here since my bike was repaired though.”

“Thanks for bringing me, Senpai,” he told her as he sat at the other end of the bench, leaning back and looking skyward. “It helps.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Are you feeling better?”

He let out a long breath and gave her a nod. “I think so. Doesn’t change everything that’s piling up, but then, I can’t think of anything that would help in that arena.”

“Is it the Shadows again? I understand that Aigis bothers you, but is there anything else you want to talk about?” She leaned forward, looking genuinely interested as her hair rose and fell in the wind.

Minato smiled at her offer. It was reassuring to know that she was serious when she’d told him to talk to her. Then again, she was rarely not serious. But when he thought of the things that were bothering him, he decided to keep Pharos to himself. The kid was a little too close to home to bring up with anyone. And she already knew about his problems with their monthly guests. “I met someone who seems to know about the Shadows and us hunting them,” he told her, hearing her leather creak as she snapped forward and turned to stare at him. “A Persona-User.” He told her about Shirato and the offer, the hints at something bigger on the horizon and the implied secrets that the Kirijo Group kept.

That last one really got her feathers ruffled. “Something else to talk to the records department about,” she muttered. “I thought I knew about everyone tied to my grandfather’s experiments.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully and gave him an inquisitive look. “Do you think they were responsible for the interference we experienced during the last operation?”

“I was thinking that myself, and I don’t know. He sounded like he was working with a group, so it is possible.”

“Be careful if you do see him again. If he hates us as much as he seems to, there’s no telling what he’ll do in the future.” Her eyes were narrow and he could see the possibilities and options weighing against the odds. He knew that she’d get to the bottom of the questions of Shirato and Aigis, no matter how many managers she had to threaten.

“I will.” Minato felt bad about ruining her mood after her efforts to cheer him up, so he changed the subject. “You said that this was your favourite place. Is there some history behind it?”

Mitsuru-senpai looked a bit surprised at the shift in topic, and gave him a long look that he nodded in return to before she curved her lips up in a smile. “I take your point. We didn’t come here to discuss work.” She turned and looked out over the waves, to the steadily-turning windmills that shone in the sun like polished sword blades. “We used to come to the island when I was a child,” she began. “My father would be busy with his work and his associates so my mother would show me all the places she knew. Airi-san learned about this place and told her about it. Picnics, homework, sometimes we came here just to spend the day. My mother loved the windmills and the view.”

“She sounds like a wonderful person,” he told her, noting the nostalgic and loving smile on her face as the memories surfaced. It was an image that stirred in his heart, imagining her in a white sundress with her hair in braids while her mother watched from where they were sitting.

“Yes, she was,” Mitsuru-senpai agreed with a sigh. “I love her and miss her, and when I come here I feel like she’s just bringing lunch from the car or about to call me back.” She chuckled and nodded toward the sea. “The smell’s the same here as it is in Yakushima, and she loved it there too. This will sound silly, but what reminds me of her the most is the feel of the wind. Mother had soft hands, so being here feels like she never left in the first place.” Comfortable silence settled between them and she gave a small laugh after a few minutes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t drop all this on you.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” he assured her, feeling honoured at hearing something precious and personal. “It’s a beautiful memory. Thanks for sharing it with me.”

She nodded in reply, then continued with a shrug. “Either way, it’s not something I talk about very often.”

“None of us do,” he told her with a chuckle. “If there’s anything we could talk about outside of work, it’s how little we want to talk about our parents.”

“If you don’t mind my saying so, you seem the most well adjusted of the others,” she observed. “Iori and Takeba won’t talk about their families, Akihiko’s background at the orphanage is not a secret, and Yamagishi changes the subject when it comes up. I’m glad that you’ve come to terms with it.”

He tilted his head to the side. Well adjusted? “That’s a word for it, I guess,” he told her after thinking on it for a few seconds. “I haven’t really thought about it. They died, the Group took me in, and that’s that.”

Mitsuru-senpai tilted her head, silent for a few seconds while she looked at him with curiosity in her eyes. “I thought you said you had a sister. Yamagishi talked asked about her before.”

“I did. Minako.”

“Weren’t you close?”

“Of course we were,” he replied with a smile. “She helped me with my homework and beat the crap out of the kids who pushed me around when I was in third grade. Our parents worked six days a week, so we spent a lot of time together. Not to the point of her dressing me up in her clothes, but you get the idea.”

“But… you said that their deaths didn’t bother you. Didn’t you grieve?”

Minato blinked at the question, not knowing how to answer. He had to have grieved at some point. There had been a funeral, and his family’s grave plot was right in town, not having any extended relatives to handle the remains. But grieving for ‘Nako and his parents? He must have. He didn’t feel sad or hurt about it, so he was sure that he’d just come to terms with it. “I did,” he replied a bit uncertainly. “I think it was after I joined the Group. Or a bit before. It’s hard to tell.”

She looked at him without moving, the questions clear in her rich red gaze, but she didn’t say anything. The silence between them became awkward, on edge instead of the previous comfort and calm. “I see. Well, either way, it’s good that you have worked it out as well as you have.” She got up and stretched, looking out to the windmills.

“Yeah,” he replied evenly, blinking a few more times as he looked for the answers to her questions, and couldn’t find them. He shook them off a moment later. “Have you eaten yet?”

Mitsuru-senpai looked a little puzzled by the question, but shook her head. “Ikutsuki caught us before we could make anything, so no.”

“I know a place that would serve as a good addition to your education in restaurants,” he told her, smiling at how cheesy that sounded. Her smirk and surprised look showed that she felt the same way. “One of the seniors at school mentioned it as a ‘place of prime and cultured cuisine,” he continued in a high, assumed pitch of Suemitsu’s voice, “and if you’re up for going out, I can give you the directions. It’s my treat.”

Her first answer was a long stare like she was trying to figure out the moves needed to complete a Rubik’s Cube before even picking it up. Then she closed her eyes and shook her head. “You never run out of tricks, do you Arisato? But it would be rude to turn down such an offer. Is this place far?”

“It’s not far from the dorm,” he hedged, “but I don’t think that will be a problem for your bike. You like Indian food, right?”

After being assured that she had nothing against a good plate of curry, Minato followed her back to her bike and gave her directions after they mounted up, thanking his foresight to have cash in his wallet for once.

Mitsuru-senpai took to the highway turns and city streets with the same speed as before, and by the time they made it to their destination, Minato’s blood was rushing through him as fast as it had during their last fight with the Shadows. “It’s exhilarating, isn’t it?” she asked when she saw the smile he couldn’t keep down. “My father made me pay for her myself, but she’s been worth every yen.”

Minato laughed as the adrenaline thinned a little, and walked her to the restaurant Suemitsu had bragged about a few weeks ago, holding the door open and nodding to himself at the heady aromas and the half-full tables. They were seated quickly, their table by a window overlooking the street and the nearby store fronts. Minato was beaten to her chair, robbed of the opportunity to pull it out when she did it herself, and he took his own seat to glance at the menu.

His concentration was yanked upward by the sound of a heavy zipper being undone, and he was treated to the sight of Mitsuru-senpai pulling her jacket back and working her arms out of the sleeves. And if Minato thought that her wearing jeans, still under her chaps, was unusual, the t-shirt she had on almost dropped his shoulders and jaw in disbelief. The t-shirt itself rode up a bit as she raised her arms and worked the jacket off, revealing a thin strip of her tanned tummy to his eyes. He’d seen her in less when they were at the beach, but the toned slice of skin seemed like it was teasing him, tempting him to touch it. Then the moment passed and her shirt fell back over her waist, and his eyes were brought to the real shocker.

It was a deep golden colour, complimenting her hair and skin perfectly, and plastered on the front of it was a Chinese girl with her hair in odangos while she wore a cheongsam, a full ramen bowl taking up the rest of the shirt.

So simple. So casual. And so utterly unexpected for the Student Council President and honour student of the Kirijo family. “Ajisen Ramen?” he asked when he could find his voice and she’d put her jacket on the back of her chair. “Really, Senpai?”

She blushed a little and smiled at his attention. “It was a joke from before you joined us. I lost a bet, and the others bought me this and told me I had to wear it at least once a year. I hated it at first, but now it seems like I don’t get to wear it enough. I was in a rush when I changed this morning, so here it is.”

Minato shook his head again, but smiled at the story. If the students in his class hated him for being close to her before, they would have been screaming for his head if they knew he’d seen her so dressed down. But the odds were good that they’d never believe him in the first place. “I can’t imagine you losing a bet, Senpai.”

She laughed a little and opened the menu. “Like I said, it was a while ago. Things were different back then.”

“You don’t have to answer, but the people you mean were Akihiko-senpai and Aragaki Shinjiro, right?”

She quickly looked up at him, surprise in her eyes. “Where did you hear about Shinjiro-san?”

“Akihiko-senpai talked about him in a really indirect way a few weeks ago, and your father mentioned him at Yakushima. I’m sorry if I mentioned something I shouldn’t have; I was just curious.”

Mitsuru-senpai shook her head with a forgiving upturn of her lips.

“It’s nothing to worry about. Akihiko would disagree, but then he grew up with Shinjiro-san. I have to say, though, you have a gift for learning the things we don’t talk about.”

“It’s a curse. Now then, have you had Indian food before?”

He brushed off work and the Shadows for good that time and proceeded to build on her education in restaurant dining. He talked about the different dishes and introduced her to lassi, which she demanded the recipe for when he identified some of the ingredients, and she blew his mind by putting away an entire order of spicy curry with a smile at the end as she cleaned her plate off with naan bread. She’d offered to pick up the tab as thanks, but he beat her to it and followed her outside, proud of how easily she was smiling and glad that his fatigue was nowhere to be found.

This was becoming a welcome habit, eating out with her. As they walked by some of the store fronts and kiosks, he tried to put together how he felt about how easy it was to be around her. “Thanks again for this morning, Senpai. I appreciate it.” There was no response, and she was missing when he turned to look at her. Left, right again, and then back he looked, only to see and hear her stepping quickly to his side.

“Sorry about that,” she said quickly, a light blush on her cheeks. “Something caught my attention. Shall we go back? I’m sure the dorm has calmed down by now.”

She wasn’t breathing hard, and it couldn’t have been ten yards that she’d crossed. Was she blushing because it was hot? Or was the curry getting to her? When he looked at her questioningly, though, she glanced over at him only for a second before walking back toward her motorcycle without another word. Minato lengthened his stride to keep up and abandoned what he was going to say, but now he was curious. What had caught her attention? And why didn’t she want to be seen looking at it?

 

* * *

 

“This should surprise me,” Minato muttered to himself less than a week later as he pulled back on the dog leash and stopping at a red light. “I think when I first got here it actually might have.”

“Is something wrong, Senpai?” Ken asked from next to him, eating some warm yakisoba bread and handing a pinch to their newest addition, Koromaru, before drinking some green tea from the container in his other hand.

“I thought it was weird when Aigis joined us,” Minato explained, scratching his cheek and letting out a heavy breath. “Finding out that a dog can do what we do was the last thing I would have expected. But it’s so not strange anymore – none of this stuff makes any sense anyway.”

Ken chewed thoughtfully and looked up at him. “I think there’s a Chinese saying about that, isn’t there? I can’t remember how it goes, but I always see it in fortune cookies.”

Minato nodded, switching the leash to a different hand and wondering if he was pulling on it too hard. Koromaru didn’t seem to mind, and as far as dogs went, he seemed the sort to let Minato know if something was wrong. That said, it was completely new to him. He’d lived in an apartment for most of his childhood, and as much as ‘Nako begged for a puppy from their parents, it was an unfulfilled dream with their schedules and responsibilities. Minato was glad they hadn’t gotten a dog, but it left him in the unenviable position of having been ‘that kid’ in school who knew very little about cute, furry pets. “I think you mean ‘May you live in exciting times,” he told Ken. “It’s meant to be a curse or a cautionary phrase, I think. Certainly applies to us.”

Ken nodded as they started across the street when the light turned green, nibbling on his bread and drinking his tea.

Despite his misgivings on Ken’s concealed reasons for joining the group, Minato had to give the kid credit: for all the weird crap that had been going on, he’d stayed remarkably stable. No creeped-out looks at Aigis, no incredulity when they recruited a dog and built a collar with a built-in Evoker, and no uncertain questions when he’d heard about the argument at the dorm a few days before. Minato had accompanied his apology with a ramen lunch (which Akihiko-senpai had taken advantage as soon as the offer was made) and suspected that Ken might have been uneasy about the friction surrounding his idol. But no, he’d adjusted to everything with a few questions and an acceptance that impressed the girls and made Minato glad there wouldn’t need to be any pep talks or extended explanations.

Whoever his parents were, they must have not fought in front of him. Or if they did, they explained it every time when they made up.

“Senpai?” Ken asked when they’d reached the park and let Koromaru off the leash for his daily run, a responsibility that SEES had taken to rotating among the members for variety and ‘team-building,’ as Ikutsuki put it. “What are our Personas?”

Minato glanced around, impressed a moment later when he noted that Ken had waited for the other people to leave or become occupied before asking the question. “Akihiko-senpai and Mitsuru-senpai could answer that question better than I could,” he replied as he rested against the nearby balance beam. “I never got the technical explanation, and I don’t know if it’s something that has a clear-cut definition.”

“I did ask them,” Ken clarified, tossing the crushed wrapper of his bread into the garbage and looking up with serious eyes. “What they told me was pretty confusing. Things about ‘other selves’ and the ‘masks we wear.’ You’ve had your Persona for a while right? How does it feel to you?”

That pulled a smile from the older student. The kid was sharp, too. Minato reached into his pocket and pulled out Koromaru’s ball, tossing it across the park and sending the dog flying after it. “About the same time as Junpei. My situation’s a bit unique, but I’ll explain it as best I can. They told you about the Shadows, right?”

“Yeah,” Ken confirmed, “and Akihiko-senpai showed some to me when we found Koromaru.”

“That makes it easy then.” Minato let out a breath to get his thoughts in order, recalling what he’d been told from SEES, what Igor and Elizabeth (whose recently-discovered fascination with manholes had required that he hold her wrist until they reached the takoyaki stand, and he’d kept his fingers crossed until she realized how little money she needed to spend this time around) had passed on through their strange conversations, and what he’d picked up on his own. “The way I see it, a Persona is a weapon and a shield at the same time. It’s our best tool when fighting the Shadows, and it’s the only thing keeping us alive when things go sideways. The others have Personas unique to them, and I’m sure yours is the same. I have no idea where they come from, but they seem to be the opposite side to the Shadows. Like we’re in control of the power the Shadows have, and that’s a Persona.”

“The way Ikutsuki-san explained it, it sounded like it’s a part of us,” Ken mentioned after thinking on it for a few seconds. “Like they come from inside us when we’ve gone through something difficult and have to work hard to get over it.”

“You mean a stress response,” Minato replied, throwing the ball for Koromaru again. “We all go through it, and that’s when our Personas come out or become stronger. That’s the other way that they’re a shield – it’s easier to handle the things we deal with when using them. In my case, I become more focused, moving and fighting are easier, so on and so forth. But our potential seems to come from how strongly we feel about the fight.”

There was a spark of realization in Ken’s eyes that grew into understanding with remarkable speed. “Then would they grow when we do? Like if we decided not to fight anymore, or if we learned something important, do you think our Personas would grow too?”

“I’m not sure. My situation’s different from Akihiko-senpai’s, for instance, so I don’t know if his Persona’s changed since it awakened or not. It’s possible that they would, though, if the theory about them being the other half of our selves is true. I know that Junpei’s gotten stronger since he joined us, and I think that’s from practice and experience. Whether they change more than that, like if we deal with something that’s been bugging us for years, I don’t know.”

“It would be nice if we didn’t have to use Evokers,” Ken told him, glancing away for a moment. “Maybe if we had collars like Koromaru, or a trigger inside us like Aigis-san, it would be easier to use them and understand them. I don’t like guns much.”

“None of us do at first,” Minato assured him, throwing the ball as far as he could and watching the white blur run and bark after it. “There’s nothing easy about having a Persona, really. It would be nice if we didn’t need the Evokers, but that doesn’t really get rid of the real problem, does it?”

“I guess not. I was thinking about it, this thing inside me, and I wonder if things would be different without it.”

“They let us do things we wouldn’t be able to otherwise. Whether it’s worth the price is up to you. Depends on what you’re fighting for.” He’d made the comment on purpose, wanting to see what Ken would do or say given his reticence last time.

And like before, Ken went quiet, looking away and turning inward. It wasn’t hard to guess that whatever he was carrying with him was what had his attention now. And just like before, he was set on carrying it on his own.

It was an odd sight, seeing a kid with the hard, aged look of someone who couldn’t go back. Someone else might have said that Ken was too young to bear that kind of a burden. But all of us are, Minato thought with a brittle smile. Yukari or Fuuka would have argued that the kid shouldn’t be fighting with them, but all Minato saw was a new candidate with raw potential. Ken was set on his path, and trying to lock him in a closet wouldn’t make him feel any better.

“It’s really scary,” Ken told his senpai, looking up with eyes that were frightened, determined, and wounded all at once. “I think of those things and my hands start to shake. But I have this power for a reason, so I have to do this. I want to do this.”

Minato nodded, looking out over the park and letting out a long breath. “You have to do the things you believe in and fight for what you want. No one else is going to do it for you.”

“I wouldn’t want them to in the first place,” Ken asserted quickly. “And I think you’re right, Senpai. It’s a hard decision to make and it’s scary to go through with it, but that’s how I know it’s the right road to take. Because if it were easy, it probably wouldn’t be worth it.”

The older of the pair looked down with a sharp exhale. “You’re too young to be thinking like that, even if you are one of us,” he told the kid. “Whatever’s bothering you won’t let you go, and I get that. But don’t forget to have some fun while you can. You’ve got a long life to figure all this stuff out, so don’t expect the answers right away. Just take it easy, alright?”

Ken was quiet for a few seconds before nodding and giving a small smile. “I’ll try, Senpai. Thanks for the talk.”

“Any time. Did it help?”

“I think so.” Ken was looking out past the park the same as Minato had, far away despite being right there. “There’s a lot of things to take care of first, but I think I’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

 

* * *

 

Blood, burnt tar, and gunpowder. The sidewalk was caked with the splattered pieces of the Shadows that had attacked them. Beasts, he thought. Less than wild animals. The larger ones were a worthy challenge, attacking with the cunning of predators. These, however, were rats trying to be lions. Rats that hadn’t been smart enough to run.

Takaya, spattered in black Shadow muck, snapped the cylinder of his revolver open and emptied it of spent shells before loading it, one round at a time, as he looked up at Tartarus. No matter where they were on the island, the Tower of Perdition, the Spire of Condemnation, glowed like a lighthouse in the night. No matter how often he stared at it, regardless of how long, it always drew the vestiges of a smile from the cracks of his soul. When he closed his eyes and focused on it, he could hear the screams of all the Lost in a continuous, overlapping symphony. A glorious rising hymn. The only way it could have been better was if he could hear those who’d died making it as well.

“They’re getting antsy,” Jin commented, pocketing a grenade and wiping his Evoker off with a dirty rag. “Feels like they were being pushed by something, like animals in a storm.”

“Don’t they usually get like this the closer we get to a full moon?” Chidori put in, trying to clean off her axe blades. “It hasn’t made them any more of a threat. They should have learned by now to avoid people, whether us or the Kirijo.”

“They’re like deer,” Jin noted with a smirk that looked like a grimace. “The ones that learn not to stand in front of cars end up as road kill, so there’s no one to teach the others. That fine though. It would be boring if they did stay away.”

“It does keep things from being dull,” Takaya noted, glancing over to the pair and illuminated in red by a nearby coffin. “Even filth like this has its place.”

Chidori gave a quiet ‘hm.’ “That may be so, but the effort to kill them is–” Her eyes flashed wide and her breath caught. “Takaya, look out!”

Her warning came after the sound of approaching wings, and Takaya ducking didn’t spare his shoulder from being raked by passing talons. His blood ran red, and a smile spread across his face. Here were the lions.

Four winged Shadows swooped and struck, silent as owls. Jin pulled out his Evoker while Chidori spun her axes in hand, eyeing the enemies for a throw. Takaya reached back and touched the wound, trembling in delectable agony that prolonged when he felt the blood on his hands. Moros flashed into existence, catching one of the Shadows as it passed and hammering it into the ground until it stopped moving. Quiet even in death. Chidori dodged a swooping attack and caught the second one with her axe, tearing its wing open and approaching as it bled and writhed on the ground. Its thrashing stopped a few moments later, and more of the street was painted black.

The last two circled Takaya, and he left his gun where it was. No need to draw it. One swooped, then the other, and Hypnos arose to meet them. One turned away from the Persona’s claws, but the other was caught and eviscerated by skeletal wings, sending Shadow blood and little bits across the road. When the last one dove for him, Takaya moved under its claws and wings at the last minute, feeling its snapping jaws pass him by, before turning and sending out a blast of lightning that shattered the air around them. The shadow banked hard, half its body immediately burnt or destroyed, and a nearby coffin was knocked over as the beast bounced on the ground.

“A valiant effort,” he commented as they looked around and the wound on his shoulder slowly pulled itself back together. Hypnos wouldn’t let its host be brought down so easily, after all.

They had turned and were about to leave for the alleys when there was a frightened whimper and a scream from behind them. All turned to see a girl, a high school student, perhaps, looking around frantically, backed against another coffin. Pale skin, wide, terrified eyes, and sputtering words that were cut off two syllables in as she tried to understand where she was.

“Unexpected,” Chidori commented, head tilted but her face otherwise expressionless.

“I’ve heard that the coffins can be broken instead of just opened,” Jin replied. “There’s something on them that keeps the Shadows from eating the people inside, but once the seal’s broken, it’s fair game.”

“Where am I?!” the girl demanded, shaking like a rattle in a child’s hands. “Where’s Daisuke-kun? Wh–what… what… oh God, what are those? Where is this?!”

Takaya’s eyes narrowed and he smiled while holding his arms out grandly. Shattering illusions had been his sole reward of Jin’s assassination request service, and watching the reality of the Dark Hour sink in was a thrill without equal. “This is the world around you,” he explained. “The world without your blinders on, with the façade of light and health stripped away and the truth right before your eyes.”

“Th–there’s no way,” she protested weakly, slowly coming to her feet and looking around, approaching one shaky step at a time. “This is wrong. It’s a nightmare. I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”

Jin and Chidori were silent, not replying except to step aside for Takaya to approach the girl. “No,” he continued, a fire in his voice that had been absent for too long. “Your life has been a dream. This is the heart of people: rotting, dark, and wonderful when you see it for what it is. What you knew was a lie, and what surrounds you now is the truth. The way the world is, and what is coming is–”

She rushed up and grabbed his arms, shaking them with growing fervor. “Send me back,” she pleaded with tears running down her cheeks. “This… this is wrong. All wrong. You’re human, so you can help me. What do I have to do? Just send me back.”

Takaya frowned. She’d interrupted him. And she wasn’t realizing what was going on. There was no fun to it this time, no satisfaction.

“Help me,” she whimpered. “Please, I don’t know you, but help me from those things. Help me wake up.”

Noise. Pointless noise. Her fear would have been welcome if he could enjoy it, feel it build up before breaking the mind that tried to hold it back. But this, this was incoherent. Her terror was muddled by her babbling, a directionless desperation begging for life that took the sweetness of the wine he’d savored in the past and left him with lemon juice.

“Please,” she begged, eyes wild and dilated. “Help me, I beg you, I’ll do–”

Takaya’s hand flashed out, bony fingers biting into her shoulder as he held her in place. Her cry of surprise was strangled off when she felt the end of his revolver’s barrel under her chin, trapping her mouth closed. She cried wordlessly, squealing and trying to get away, reaching up to beat his hand away. Still so terrified and misdirected, blind to the world around her and only wanting to escape. Still a moving, squirming mass of noise. An expendable annoyance. “Quiet,” he ordered before pulling the trigger.

Blood and chunks of skull and brain rained on the sidewalk, mixing in with the black of the Shadows. The body dangled in his hand, just another corpse. Takaya let it fall, deaf to the sound of it hitting the ground as he frowned. He’d just reloaded, and now he’d have to do it again.

Nearby, Jin was cracking his knuckles and checking the clips on his suitcase. Chidori rubbed at a smattering of blood that had gotten on her dress. Neither gave a glance to the body on the ground.

“We need to make a decision regarding Arisato,” Jin told him after checking the corners and alleys for any other disturbances. “If we give him any more time, he won’t take us seriously, regardless of what he chooses.”

“Regarding that,” Chidori brought up, “I have information that may explain their way of operating. I’ve met a guy on their team who claims to be the group leader.”

Jin looked over, intrigued. “It’s hard to believe that it’s not Arisato. Do you mean Sanada?”

“His name is Iori Junpei,” she supplied, expression not changing. “He tried to be subtle about it, but failed quite admirably. The details he gave were too precise to be a coincidence, but I don’t know if he’s telling the truth about being in charge. It seemed strange to me, especially since Arisato or Kirijo are the most likely candidates.”

“They are,” Jin asserted with a snort. “The rest are hanger-ons and cannon fodder. And Iori’s pretty unremarkable, from everything I’ve heard, so he was probably showing off.”

“It’s unlikely that they would assign a nobody as a leader,” Takaya added, reloading his gun and slipping it back into his belt. “Especially given their argument at the hotel. If Iori was the one Arisato was fighting with, then it makes no sense for him to be their leader.”

“I thought the same thing. But why is Arisato leading them in the first place if the Kirijo girl is part of the team?” Chidori persisted. “For them to hand the reins over to a newcomer seems out of character. And if that’s so, then perhaps Arisato wasn’t always the leader. Perhaps Iori lost his place and that was the cause of their argument. Maybe he wasn’t before but is now. Whatever the options, he’s not someone to overlook.”

“Arisato leads because of his importance,” Takaya murmured. “He is unique. The others are irrelevant.”

“Keep an eye on this Iori,” Jin told Chidori. “Maybe the Kirijo are changing their methods. Get more out of him if you can. If we can break them from the inside, then this is a perfect opportunity. And if not, then they’ll lose someone regardless.”

Takaya brushed off their discussion. Jin would handle it. Such was the role of a second-in-command. Arisato, though, had yet to make a move. He had been silent all this time, without a call or an inquiry. Was he content to stay under the hold of the Kirijo? Did he not take Jin seriously? Or was he taking the long view and biding his time?

“There’s also the matter of Yamagishi,” Jin continued. “If Iori will talk to you about her, then learn what you can. The sooner we deal with her, the easier this gets: that little stunt at the bunker was cutting it close.”

What if Arisato saw nothing at all? Didn’t he see the chaff that was around him? Did he choose to ignore it? He was a transfer student, but why was he here in the first place? Takaya flexed his shoulders, the wound throbbing in a macabre thump that left him smiling. A drumbeat of mortality, the seconds of life and death warring with each tick.

“Did she know they would show up as quickly as they did?” Chidori asked, straightening out the ruffles on her dress. “She retreated from the Shadow as soon as they arrived. I thought she would have tried to contact the Kirijo machine.”

“Who knows what she wants,” Jin replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I doubt we’ll hear from her again, and anything the Kirijo make is bound to be a few bolts short of Frankenstein’s Monster.” Then he turned to the reticent Takaya. “Are you sure you want to focus on Arisato this much? Yamagishi’s the one we need to get rid of, sooner rather than later. Unless you know of a better way to bypass her abilities.”

Hypnos whispered when Takaya thought of Arisato. That power spike, the bond he felt so many weeks ago that left him in cold, delicious shivers. Suggestions of what to do entered Takaya’s mind, and by the end he was leaning back languorously and looking up at the tower in the distance, the glowing spike that pierced the sky.

Plotting and planning were reaching their half life. Results were needed. Everything was flowing in the same direction, and he could feel the current speeding up around him. Events were unfolding, and he needed answers. Answers he wouldn’t get by waiting.

Perhaps it was time he spoke to Arisato in person.


	8. Trompement

“Are you alright?” Minato asked as they stopped at an intersection and checked the corners. There was nothing but murky darkness and cold, twisted light. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to take a few nights off.”

Yukari sighed and shook her head, looking away and tapping her Evoker. “No,” she told him slowly. There was an obvious strain in her voice, despite trying to sound steady. “It won’t help. Won’t change that she’s dead. Thanks though.”

“I feel really sorry for her family,” Fuuka told them from behind, her bandana a mourning black this time. “How they found her… No one should have to go through that.”

Yukari let out a short puff of air and stopped tapping her Evoker for only a few seconds before starting again. “Her parents’re nice people. They didn’t deserve seeing her like that. And not just them; Daisuke-san was a mess. I didn’t think he knew how to cry like that.”

Minato took a moment to check his weapons, scratching the back of his head. He was a terrible person to talk to when it came to the death of someone close, be they a parent or a child or a pet or, in Yukari’s case, a close friend. He never knew what to say to the bereaved. “If you need some time, I–”

“I don’t! So stop asking!” she snapped at him, spinning with a glare that only lasted a second before she stepped back, breathing hard and clenching her teeth against her emotional turmoil. “Sorry,” she told him after a few moments. “You didn’t deserve that. But staying still is just going to make me remember how they found her, so I want to work right now.”

The news had hit SEES harder than reports of a new Shadow or an increase in the Lost would have. The student had been a close friend of Yukari’s, a bright face in the kyudo club and a candidate for team captain. But a few nights before, between one second and the next, she’d gone from walking home with her friends and planning to sneak in after her curfew to having most of her head blown off, a bloody heap that had been a loved and lively person.

No one had been able to explain it. From the entry point beneath her chin, it had looked like suicide, but all the students with her swore that she didn’t have a gun, hadn’t been depressed or suicidal, and in fact had been selected as a candidate for an achievement scholarship. Police had canvassed the area and didn’t find anything that could have been used as a weapon, and the family didn’t believe in owning even a ceremonial dagger, let alone firearms.

When Mitsuru-senpai broke the news to them the morning after it happened and gave her report on the details, no one in the dorm had any doubts. Someone else was travelling the Dark Hour, and they had an innocent student’s blood on their hands.

“I understand,” Minato told her softly. Yukari didn’t want comfort right now, and he could respect that. “I’ll drop it. If you want, we can go kill some Shadows and see if we find anyone else.”

She looked at him, a grim resolve in her eyes and a small, honest smile on her lips. “Yeah. That works.”

Minato nodded and drew his sword, asking Fuuka to find them some trouble. Much as she warned them to be careful, Minato and Yukari found and cut down whole groups of wandering Shadows with ruthless ferocity. Yukari had never missed before, but now her arrows were accompanied by wind blasts so strong that the air hissed with every shot. Minato dodged back a few times when he’d moved close to her targets, but never complained. She needed this, and he wasn’t going to stop her. He just ran and cut and blew through the Shadows whether they were rushing him or running away, and before long his sword and clothes were smeared in black gunk and slime.

It had been well timed though. When he noticed how filthy he was getting, the Shadows had already retreated or been crushed. Yukari had a fierce, pained, teeth-baring grin on her face, and even when the Dark Hour ended, even though they hadn’t found a trace of any other people, she looked like she felt better.

Minato didn’t say anything as he cleaned his sword under the clean light of the moon and the street lamps. When Yukari finished collecting her arrows and joined him by a bus bench, he flashed her a smile and gave her a nod, and it felt like the tension that had been between them since his argument with Aigis lessened from the rush of adrenaline. Fuuka had sent a telepathic parting to them once the Dark Hour ended, heading off to join the others.

“I was wondering,” she began after a few minutes of resting and letting the night air cool her off. “Do you think the people who trapped us in the bunker had something to do with this? They had Personas, otherwise they would have been hunted by the Shadows, and they didn’t have a problem locking us up with a tank.”

Minato scratched at the flat of his blade with his thumbnail, working at it until he could see steel again. “I’ve been thinking the same thing,” he told her as he sheathed his sword. “It’s hard to say if someone trapped us in there or if it was just bad timing. Let’s not forget whoever was fighting the Shadow before we got there, and that’s still a big question mark. But the evidence shows that the suspect is someone with our talents, and that’s a pretty short list.”

“Why do you think they killed her?” Yukari asked quietly. “It’s been on my mind, and I don’t like any of the answers that I’ve come up with.”

Minato leaned back and folded his hands. This was good. It involved listening and thinking, and he could do those. “Let’s hear them. What’s standing out to you?”

“Where they found her,” she told him, leaning back next to him and staring into the night. “Daisuke-san said that she was with them when he saw her alive, but she wasn’t with them when she was killed. Mitsuru-senpai got me the police reports, and they say that her body was more than six metres away from the others when they put the pieces together.”

Minato nodded but didn’t say anything. The implications weren’t pretty.

But Yukari tuned into his mood and looked at him. “What are you thinking?”

The possibilities were grim, but Minato let out a bracing breath anyway. They were a team, first and foremost. “I think she woke up during the Dark Hour,” he told her after a moment. “For some reason, she came out of her coffin and probably freaked out when she saw what it was like. That would explain why she wasn’t with the others from one second to the next. She wouldn’t have known who was who or where she was, and they say that when you want to be found by someone, you should stay in one place. It makes sense that she would stay near where she came to, and that’s where whoever killed her found her.”

Yukari glared at the storefronts across the street, her knuckles going white when she clenched her fists. “Terrified and lost,” she muttered from between clenched teeth. “She didn’t have a chance. Did you know that they found dirt on her knees? It was like she was crawling or hiding when she died.”

Minato looked at her from the corner of his eye, taking careful notes. He’d given her a chance to vent before, but he promised himself he’d watch her when he could. There was no way he could understand what she was going through, and he didn’t want her to risk herself for the sake of revenge. He who pursues vengeance should bring two coffins came to mind, but he knew that she didn’t want to hear it.

“How do you think it happens?” she asked him then. “I know the Shadows can break into the coffins, or at least they can catch people or we wouldn’t have the Lost. But can someone wake up on their own? Could they be pulled out if we tried?”

“I don’t know,” he told her honestly. “And I’m not going to put someone through that just to test it. But that is an option. There’s also the chance that her waking up was an accident. Maybe the coffins aren’t very sturdy, or maybe hers was hit in the middle of a fight and she came to accidentally.”

“That’s a lot of maybes,” she noted.

“And I don’t like it any more than you do. Way too many unanswered questions. But that’s where we’re at right now. There is something else, though,” he continued, deep in thought. “Something that might be part of a pattern. I’m not sure.”

“What is it?”

Minato rubbed his face and leaned back, feeling his half-curtain of hair cover his eye and cheek. “Someone has been killing people for the last few months. There are never any witnesses and the time of death is around midnight.”

“That’s a pretty close connection,” Yukari told him, pushing forward and turning to him. “Why haven’t we been looking into those murders? It’s probably the same guy.”

“Because we didn’t know about it,” Minato replied, drawing out each word with biting sarcasm. “Seems someone in the police department made solving those murders his personal mission in life, and he kept the details to himself. Of course the cases haven’t gone anywhere, but now that this murder’s brought the details to light, he didn’t have a choice and we can go a bit further. Did you ever hear about that revenge website rumour at school?”

Yukari nodded, looking a bit puzzled at the shift in topic. “Put in someone’s name and post a price, and sometimes the person would die. That was just a hoax though, wasn’t it? Some of those kids went missing, but a lot of the people on that list are fine. I mean, I think I was on there once, and I’m sure you were too.”

“Some of the people on the missing person’s reports have been confirmed as dead,” Minato replied, looking her in the eye as the horror spread across her face. “The website wasn’t a 1:1 relationship to the murders since not everyone on the lists died. Not very many at all when they ran the numbers. But some of them did so the connections are pretty strong, and whoever was running the service is still in the wind; when the police took down the website, they couldn’t trace it to a set place or person.”

“So those psychos are still on the loose,” she concluded.

“It could be,” Minato told her, stressing his words. “There weren’t any girls on the list who are unaccounted for, so it doesn’t seem that your friend was killed because of a grudge. And the murders that they can confirm happened in the back alleys where no one goes after dark, so the lack of witnesses could just be from the location. But there is one smoking gun to keep in mind: the people who died in the alleys were shot. Without exception.”

Yukari went pale, and a cold fire sparked in her eyes. “It’s the same group. They’re using the Dark Hour to move around and kill people when no one else is around.”

“We can’t confirm it since we don’t know if the bullets match,” Minato commented. “We can’t get access to those details, and Mitsuru-senpai’s tried. But it’s too close to be a complete coincidence. That still doesn’t bring us any closer to finding them, mind you, but if we meet any Persona-Users who fight with real guns, we can ask them some questions.”

Yukari went quiet for a moment, staring past him. Minato was worried that she would get the bit in her teeth with the new information, but instead she shook her head and turned back to him, her stance square. “Thanks, Minato-kun,” she told him, holding her hand out.

“Anytime,” he replied, shaking hands firmly. When she pulled back a bit, he didn’t open his fingers. “I’ll keep an eye open. This island isn’t that big a place. If the person or people who killed her are here, we’ll find them.”

Yukari blinked at the determination in his voice, the lack of any doubt, and gave an honest smile. “I appreciate that.”

Minato let her hand go and nodded before looking down the street leading to the dorm. “Let’s see if the others know anything. It’s been a late enough night as it is.”

Yukari agreed and fell into step next to him, and they’d made it a block in comfortable silence before she stopped and turned to him. “Since we’re talking, there’s something I wanted to discuss.”

Minato came to a halt, looking at her curiously. “What’s up?”

She raised her hand in the direction of the dorm. “Aigis. I get that you don’t trust her, and I don’t think she was right for going into your room like that, but you were pretty hard on her before. She hasn’t been talking or asking as many questions as she used to, and I think she’s afraid of you now.”

He sighed heavily, bordering on a groan. He knew this was coming, and he didn’t hold it against her for bringing it up. One must sleep in the bed one has made. “I feel bad about that,” he admitted. “I had a lot going on at the time, and fighting Shadows and seeing her in my room wasn’t a good way to end the week. But I know that’s no excuse.”

“It isn’t,” she told him bluntly. “But why does she bug you so much? You didn’t hold it against Stupei when he was a jerk to you at the hotel, right?”

“It’s different with her,” Minato replied, taking a few seconds to get is thoughts in order. “I want to trust her. I know that she’s new to all this stuff, and she saved us when we were fighting that tank, so as weird as the circumstances of her joining us were, she’s on our side. I get that. But there’s an itch in the back of my mind when she’s around, like someone’s telling me not to trust her, to always listen to what she says and to be on my guard, and I have no idea why. I don’t think I’ve met her before, so I don’t know where it comes from, but it’s always there.”

Yukari’s brow creased as she process what he’d told her. “Even when she’s helped us out?” she asked a few moments later.

“That’s right,” Minato confirmed before he looked up at the stars. Yukari didn’t say anything, but he knew she was looking at him, and he knew what she was thinking. Minato let out a long sigh before coming back down to earth and looking at her. “I’ll talk to her about it,” he promised. “Whatever my problems are and wherever that feeling comes from shouldn’t interfere with what we’re doing.”

“I think that’s for the best,” Yukari told him with a nod. “It’s strange that you feel that way, but it’s not her fault that you do.”

Minato nodded and they started walking back toward the dorm together, taking the back streets so no one would see a pair of students carrying weapons.

“A weird feeling about her, huh?” Yukari continued after a few minutes, looking over at him with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think you do anything normally. Even all this stuff with the Shadows and our Personas doesn’t seem to totally apply to you.”

“I know,” he groused. “And the more questions I ask the less I feel like I know about anything that’s going on.”

“We’ll be here to help you out, Minato-kun,” she told him, a small smile spreading on her face as they walked. “No matter how bizarre you turn out to be.”

“You’re too kind,” he shot back, his lips curling up. The last few minutes to the dorm were spent in silence, but their banter had eased them back into the familiar camaraderie that had grown since that day at the kyudo range. When Minato opened the front door for her, he saw that while the strain and anger were still etched on her face, they were less obvious now. He permitted himself a nod of self-approval: his work as the leader had gone well this time.

He took off his shoes and gave his regards to the others when he saw them in the lounge, but when he saw a furtive glance from a blonde sitting on the end of one of the couches, he sighed and rubbed his face again. He considered talking to her in private, but decided against it. He’d chewed her out in front of the others, so he owed it to her to apologize the same way. “Aigis. Do you have a minute?”

She looked up at the sound of his voice, her eyes glassy and her doll’s face tilted in curiosity. “I am not in possession of time, Minato-san. Do you mean to ask if I have a stopwatch?”

It was still unnerving. There was something about her that was distinctly off and those whispers in the back of his mind wouldn’t ease up. But he’d promised Yukari, and he owed it to the team to not let it become a problem. He walked up to where she was sitting and winced when everyone turned to look at him. It figured. “It’s an expression,” he explained steadily. “I’m asking if I can talk to you. Would I be interrupting anything?”

“No,” she told him, rising to her feet. “I am available if you want to discuss something.”

“I owe you an apology.” There were a few sounds of surprise and some of his dorm mates turned or shifted in their seats to hear him better. But no one said anything. “I was harder on you than I should have been last week,” he continued. “There were a lot of other things going on at the time and seeing you in my room made everything worse, but that’s no excuse for me saying what I did. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorry.”

Aigis was quiet for a few seconds before she came around the couch to face him. “It was difficult to hear you say what you did,” she began in that agreeable voice that made him cold. “I could describe it as feeling alone despite being around you and everyone else. My directives are concrete, and following them is my highest priority, but I had hoped to be accepted into SEES. Learning from all of you has been very educational, and I hope that I can become part of your group in time. If you are sincere, Minato-san, then I will accept your apologies and work to not be an inconvenience in the future.”

“You’re not an inconvenience,” Minato told her, working through his thoughts. “But there are some differences between us that we need to work out. And that’s not because of you; lots of people don’t get along right away. We can work on that. So, I hope that you can forgive me.”

“I accept your apology, Minato-san. I look forward to learning more from you and working with you in our mission.” The smile she gave amplified his unease, but when he pushed the feeling aside and held his words, he noticed a spark of warmth and humanity in the gesture that hadn’t been there when he first saw her.

She was learning, he realized, and as off as she made him feel, she was making real progress. Minato shut the door on the instincts telling him to stay away from her and extended his hand. His feelings had been right before, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be wrong now. Even when her cold grip tightened uncomfortably around his hand as they shook, he couldn’t see any malice or deception in her. “If you don’t mind me asking, who gave you the directive to watch out for me?” he inquired as he stretched out the feeling of having his hand almost crushed. He made a mental note to teach her about restraint when working around normal people. “Did someone else tell you to watch out for me? And if so, who?”

Aigis blinked before answering. “I don’t recall who gave me the directive. When I received it and how are not known to me.”

“Why?” Minato asked calmly. “Didn’t the Group keep you running and repaired?”

“They have maintained me to the extent of their abilities,” Aigis confirmed, looking to Mitsuru-senpai long enough to nod in what looked like genuine appreciation. “But they have not been able to fix all the damage that I have sustained since my primary activation.”

That was new. Minato looked at Mitsuru-senpai, who’d stood up with obvious curiosity on her face and was giving Aigis a questioning look.

“How does that work?” she asked their cyborg companion. “If the Kirijo Group made you, why can’t they repair you when you’re injured?”

“The damage dates back 10 years, 3 months, 16 days and 4 hours,” Aigis replied, her voice flatter than usual and taking on the tone of an overworked wageslave reciting a finance report. “The event was a type-AAA crisis caused by the failure to contain a number of large Shadows. They had undergone experiments directed by Kirijo Kouetsu and overcame their restraints.”

Mitsuru nodded grimly when Minato looked at her, his question obvious. “My grandfather,” she muttered with clear disdain.

“The details of the damage I sustained are not known to me,” Aigis continued. “My purpose was to eliminate the Shadows in the event of their escape, and I have no reason to believe that I did not follow my directives. However, I sustained critical damage in the process, and those employed by the Kirijo Group have been unable to completely repair that damage. When I inquired, they told me that the areas that were damaged were crucial to my continued operation as I am. I have been told that some efforts were made to circumvent the problem, but I have heard of no progress since I was activated most recently.”

“And your orders to look out for me stem from that damage?” Minato asked, his eyes narrowed in thought.

“I do not know,” the blonde admitted. “The directive activated only when you arrived at Yakushima. I have no memory of when I received it or from whom. This leads me to believe that the damage I sustained has prevented me from remembering when I received the directive or why. Also, my latent programming prohibits me from asking questions of that magnitude or from taking action to rectify the matter myself. I have asked all that I can, and I have shared it with you. I know nothing else on the subject.”

“You have directives that you can’t resist or question from a source you don’t remember, and you’re damaged from your fight with the Shadows ten years ago and that’s left you with holes in your memory,” Minato listed after a moment. “And your instructions to protect me are also a blank?”

“Yes,” Aigis told him.

“But they are still present and influencing you.”

“That is correct.”

Minato rubbed his face, feeling the lateness of the hour and the fatigue from the night’s fights in a familiar dragging heaviness. “Why didn’t you explain these things earlier? There are lots of things going on that we don’t understand, and we would have understood where you were coming from if you’d told us that.”

“Kirijo security protocols are restricted by clearance of the highest level, and discussing them with others is, under normal circumstances, prohibited,” Aigis informed him immediately. “Also, Ikutsuki-san arranged for my activation and relocation. I assumed that everyone had been briefed on my condition if they found it relevant.”

“He didn’t,” Mitsuru-senpai informed her with a long look toward the stairs leading to the second floor. “I’ll talk to him about that in the morning.”

Aigis hesitated for a moment just then, blinking at Minato like she was trying to find her words. “I admit,” she began slowly, “that informing everyone about this did not occur to me. There has never been a time when my condition and preferences were not already known to those around me. This situation is… very different from what I am used to.”

“It’s new for all of us,” Minato told her, nodding with as much encouragement as he could muster. “But let’s remember this as a learning experience, alright? And if there are any other directives or changes that concern one of us or what we’re doing, please tell us. Even if we might already know them, it’s better to be sure.”

“I understand. I will do as you ask.”

Minato nodded and looked to the others, noting the approval in some gazes and the respect in others. “I think that’s enough business for tonight,” he told the team. “At least it is for me. Yukari has the rest of the details, but when we go on patrol, let’s keep an eye open for any other Persona-Users. We’re not the only ones who can move around in the Dark Hour, and I don’t want anyone to take any chances.” There were nods and a few grim looks all around, Junpei and Akihiko turning to Yukari with obvious questions. “I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

Minato ignored the conversation underneath his floor as he washed his face and changed into his nightwear twenty minutes later, after he’d checked his armour and cleaned his sword. He rested in his bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking of the past week and everything that had happened. He knew, now that his head was clear, where he’d gone wrong. He’d been focusing so much on the Shadows and the voices in his head, on what Junior had told him and all the unanswered questions in the Dark Hour that he’d neglected his responsibility to the people he was with the other twenty-hour hours of the day. Whatever else was going on, they were a team, and he knew that they needed to be a strong one if things got worse. That meant that the leader needed to be at the forefront, not detached and off to the side.

He’d screwed up and let things become personal, but the others seemed like they would forgive him in time. It left him uneasy when he thought about how he’d lost sight of his most basic responsibility, but he thought about Mitsuru-senpai and how she so skillfully juggled all her roles without letting it affect her judgment. The steel in her eyes always impressed him, and he smiled as sleep surrounded him. “Live and learn,” was the last thing he said before his eyes closed.

 

* * *

 

“I can’t explain it,” Fuuka told the group four nights later in the Command Room, her browed creased in frustration. “The Shadows don’t normally act like this, and I don’t know what has changed.”

SEES’s detector had been practicing with Lucia when she started picking up on abnormalities. Namely, the Shadows seemed to be reacting to something, but she couldn’t tell what, and they were scrambling around the city. When she’d told the team about it two days after Minato’s apology to Aigis, Mitsuru-senpai pushed Penthesilea to try and discern the root of the problem. The Kirijo heiress came to two conclusions: that the Shadows were indeed acting strangely, and that she had no idea what the problem was.

“We’re not even that close to the full moon,” Akihiko-senpai observed next to Minato as he tapped the nearby table. “We’ve kept their numbers down this time, but this… what’s causing this? They haven’t acted like this even when the big ones come out.”

Minato looked at Fuuka, then around at the others. They’d been asking variations of that question since Fuuka and Mitsuru-senpai made their report, and no one had any answers. “There’s only so much that we can tell from readings,” he commented, stretching and shrugging off a yawn. Months of exposure and selective sleeping habits had made the Dark Hour a regular part of his routine instead of a heavy burden, and the others had similarly adapted to their nocturnal activities. “If we want to learn more, I say we hit the streets and see what the Shadows are up to. There’s a risk, sure, but no more than us going into their nest every other night.”

Junpei gave a nod and a grin. “That’s a plan I’d get behind. Why hole up here when we can take them on in person? And a fight in a new location would be good practice for us, right?”

The others looked at the two males with a clear mixture of emotions, from Yukari’s eye-rolling acceptance to Mitsuru-senpai’s approval.

“We will be closer to the dormitory than when we infiltrate Tartarus,” Aigis noted. “In the event of an emergency or an unexpected rout, a safe rendezvous point would be closer and more accessible. When considering our long-term objectives, there is merit to the team adapting to a new environment. Provided we exercise caution, I support the motion to attack the Shadows in the city.”

“We’re not in a position where we can risk serious injuries,” Yukari pointed out. Minato knew that she’d been combing the city during the day, looking for any clue on her friend’s murderer. Whatever her reservations toward jumping into a fight, they were overridden by the steel determination in her eyes. “Especially if the Shadows are acting strange,” she continued. “There’s only so much Mitsuru-senpai and I can do to patch you guys up, so if we do this, everyone needs to be careful.”

There were nods all around, and the air changed from frustrated curiosity to fierce anticipation. “That decides the combat order,” Minato told them. “Akihiko-senpai and Mitsuru-senpai will lead one group, Yukari and I will lead the other. That way we can patch up any wounded if it comes to that. Also, Fuuka will come with me so that we can get in touch if we need to.” Fuuka and Mitsuru-senpai nodded in approval. Minato looked around the room to the other active members. Koromaru, Junpei, and Aigis were left.

Koromaru walked over to Minato and rubbed against his leg, making his choice clear with a few happy barks when Minato bent down to scratch him behind the ears.

“I have an idea,” Akihiko-senpai told them, frowning and rubbing his chin. “I want to know what you guys think. Amada’s serious about joining us in the field and practicing with his Persona. Every time we go out he’s asking to come along, and I hate having to sideline him. I want to bring him along and see what he can do.”

Minato shrugged after a thoughtful moment. “Same as you did with us, huh? I don’t have a problem with it.”

“Are you sure he’s ready?” Yukari asked, surprised that the team leader had given his approval so easily. “There’s a lot to know about fighting Shadows, and Amada might be pretty mature for his age but it’s not an easy thing to get into.”

“The three of us didn’t have a lot of training when we went to Tartarus for the first time,” Minato recalled aloud. “I know it’s not really the same thing, but there’s not a lot that we can do to prepare him for real combat beyond what he already knows. I know he’s been practicing, and he seems dedicated. And this way we can test him on our terms rather than him winding up in a fight when we aren’t around.” He looked to Akihiko-senpai then. “This is just a test though. It goes without saying, but if there is anything he can’t handle, you and Mitsuru-senpai make sure he’s kept safe. Even if it hurts his pride.”

“Of course,” the redhead responded. Akihiko-senpai nodded firmly.

“Actually,” Minato added with a smile, “do that even if he is doing well. Following orders and working with the team are important skills for any of us, and if he’s serious about joining us, then this would be a good chance to take his measure.”

“That’s a good point,” Yukari mentioned. “Keep him safe though, alright? I don’t want him to be hurt. He’s too young for a lot of this.”

“It’s his decision,” Minato replied. “But I agree. It feels wrong to have a kid on our team, even if he’s been pushing for it since he got here.” There was also the matter of Ken’s evasions and refusal to talk about his reasons for joining. Minato hadn’t gotten any closer to those answers, and he knew that he was on the edge of pushing the kid too far, so recently he’d let his questions lie.

“If Amada-san will be fighting with Kirijo-san and Sanada-san,” Aigis began, “then I would like to accompany them. I will ensure the group’s safety at range and provide Amada-san with the opportunities he requires. This will minimize the risks he will face and ensure that any spontaneous changes are accounted for.”

“Thanks, Aigis,” Akihiko-senpai told her. The others nodded gratefully in turn.

“Guess I’m with the boss and Yuka-tan,” Junpei concluded, clapping his hands and bending down to tickle Koromaru, earning him a fresh series of barks and licks. “Works for me.”

“When should we do this?” Yukari asked. “The film festival is starting up at school soon, and I’d like to enjoy that if we can.”

“Do you have any plans for tomorrow night?” Minato asked the group. Ready grins and shook heads were his reply. “Then that’s when we do it. Let’s find out what we can tonight and rest up until tomorrow. If there’s nothing else, meeting adjourned.”

That was how, almost twenty-four hours later, the teams split up and went to separate sections of the city where the Shadows had been the most agitated. Ken had looked both pale and excited when they’d given him the news, and Minato made a point of stressing the rules a second time to make sure they stuck. Ken had looked a bit insulted when he’d done that, but Minato wasn’t taking chances. Not until they knew how deep the kid’s potential went, and definitely not before they knew how well he could defend himself. Even if Ken came through perfectly, like Yukari said, having someone this young fighting beside them felt wrong.

Minato and his team had gotten an early start and hit the city just as the Dark Hour arrived, the stench of rank decay rolling over them like that telltale invisible line. The feeling of wrongness had become so familiar now that Minato smiled when his sense adjusted in only a few seconds. “It’s probably a bad thing that I’ve gotten so used to this,” he told the others while he rolled his shoulders and flexed his hands. The drop in temperature always made him edgy until the adrenaline started flowing. Then he was too busy to care how cold or hot it was.

“I haven’t,” Fuuka admitted, looking around and waving her hand in front of her nose. “And I hope that I never do.”

“Nah,” Junpei told them, taking a deep breath that showed how little the changes affected him. “Getting used to this is a good first step. Means we’re even better at what we do than before and we can kick more ass in less time. Gotta keep up our winning streak, right? There’s bigger game down the line and we’ve gotta be ready for it.”

Yukari smiled as she nocked an arrow and scanned the darkness. “Glad to see you’re focusing on the important things.”

“Hey,” Junpei protested with a grin as he shouldered his sword, “I’m being serious here.”

“So am I,” she replied. “When we started doing this, none of us knew what to make of it. I thought it was crazy, and you treated it like a game. We’ve both come a long way since then, haven’t we?”

Junpei stopped and gave her an appraising look. Minato halted to look at them after checking the nearby corners, not sure how his companion would take the honest praise. Even Fuuka looked on curiously, drinking from her chilled water bottle.

“Cut it out, Yuka-tan,” Junpei told her after a few seconds, adjusting his ball cap and nodding down the street. “We haven’t even started and you’re gonna mess up my mascara.”

Yukari laughed and walked in step next to him as Minato and Fuuka continued toward their target. “Yeah yeah, big talk. Just don’t let it go to your head.”

Koromaru barked jovially beside them, his tongue lolling to the side. As they walked, they checked each corned and shadow with the ease of a well-oiled machine, and their banter cut off when they got to the arcade and the temperature dropped even more. Not only did it put everyone on their guard, but the tension rose when there were almost no Shadows to be found. The few they had seen either died from Yukari’s arrows or scurried back down the alleys, leaving no trace of ever having been there.

“Something’s wrong here,” Minato told them, signalling for a halt as he saw the opening of the dark back alleys. The parking lot they were in was even more murky than the rest of the block, making it harder to see than usual. “This is a good place for the Shadows to attack, but there hasn’t been any sign of them yet.”

“They’re probably plannin’ an ambush,” Junpei pointed out. “The ones in Tartarus’re always hard to nail down.”

“Minato-kun’s right,” Yukari mentioned. “I can’t see them or hear them, and this is where they should be, right Fuuka?”

“This is where they were last night,” the girl confirmed.

“Would they act differently if they got this far from Tartarus?” Yukari asked dubiously.

“We haven’t seen that so far,” Minato told them.

At their feet, Koromaru started sniffing at the ground, scratching the concrete a few times. Then he stopped and began to growl, his ears set back. The others began looking around, weapons ready.

Fuuka gasped a little and stared at the mouth of the alley. “Wait,” she murmured, threading her fingers and narrowing her eyes in focus. “This isn’t right…”

A chorus of inhuman screams echoed all around them as a tide of red eyes and rushing claws burst from the alleys. Fuuka shrieked in surprise as everyone reached for their Evokers.

Just like in the bunker, the Shadows’ voices reverberated all around him. For a split-second, Minato let those voices wash over him. He felt their bloodlust and killing fury, like all the others, but there was a shrillness to the noise this time. Were they that eager to attack? Were they afraid?

Then the moment passed, and he spun his Evoker up. “Keep tight and don’t let any past,” he told his team before he pulled the trigger, the ethereal glow already surrounding the others. Like a well-oiled machine they blew whole chunks out of the rampaging horde, timing their blasts to cover each other. The tactic, devised by Yukari, had worked during the ambushes and attacks in Tartarus and lit up the Dark Hour like nothing else could.

This time was different though. And that was immediately apparent when the Shadows kept pushing forward. Black sludge flew and the air stank of burnt tar and sulfur and still their enemies advanced, clawing over each other to get to their prey.

“They’re getting pushy!” Junpei grated as he pulled the trigger again, blowing another swath into a stain on the concrete with yellow-hot fire. “What’s with them?!”

Minato called down a blast of lightning that blinded him and shook the ground, so close that it hissed through the air. “Don’t stop!” he told them as he swung and cut as fast as he could without leaving himself open. Next to him, an ethereal howl echoed through the air, and two explosions tore through the Shadows again. And again, more came.

The two men fought as close as they could without getting in the other’s cutting arcs, covering Fuuka and Yukari without giving ground. The Shadows screamed and tore at them, leaving cuts in their clothes and armour that ran frantic red. Junpei swung in wide, fast arcs, and Minato turned and pivoted to get the best angles, and yet there was no way to kill the monsters fast enough. “Fuuka!” their leader called. “Get us out of here!”

“I’m trying!” was her response, her eyes closed in pained concentration. “There’s something wrong!”

“Can we work that part out later?!” Junpei grated, setting off a deafening set of explosions before swinging hard at a Shadow clawing at his legs. “We’re in the open here! Find an empty alley!”

“No time!” Yukari shouted, nocking an arrow and glowing bright as she took aim. “Something big’s coming!”

Minato looked up and saw a huge curved sword held in what looked like a mix of an arm and tentacles. The rest of the Shadow was an indistinct blob of muscles and faces and teeth, but that sword was all he had time to think about. “Break!” he shouted, focusing as best he could. “Split up and get back to the dorm!” He knew it was an empty order; they had nowhere to run to.

Junpei looked at him incredulously. “How’re we supposed to do that?! They’re everywhere!”

The enormous weapon swept across the space in front of them, sweeping smaller Shadows out of its way before raising, gleaming in the light like the moon on the water. Then it tore through the air, the guillotine’s blade coming down.

No time. No chance to coordinate with Junpei. And nowhere to run. Minato reached as deep as he could as he pulled the trigger.

The massive sword crashed into a blazing shield, stopped in place. Every neural pathway lit up in pain. Minato’s Personas shrieked so loud he swore his head was going to disintegrate. The force of the collision was a typhoon blast, and Shadows and humans were sent flying by the blast.

“Minato-kun!” Fuuka yelled. She’d grabbed his arm at the last minute, holding steady before pulling him to the only empty alley she could find. She looked around as she ran, the Shadow’s hate-filled stare following her, then searching for the others. Yukari-san and Junpei-kun were scrambling for a different alley, using the distraction to blow their way clear. She tried to find Koro-chan, but he was nowhere to be seen. “This way,” she told Minato-kun, dragging at his arm and hoping they didn’t run into any Shadows. Minato-kun clenched his Evoker in a death grip, the only weapon he had now. His eyes were shut and his teeth were bared; she could only imagine how much pain he was in right now.

She turned two corners and looked around. A few faint explosions were the only report from the others, but she couldn’t sense any Shadows approaching. But, she told herself in frustration, that was counting for less than usual these days. Why weren’t her scans working?

Fuuka sent a mental report to Mitsuru-senpai, warning them of the massive Shadow they’d encountered and the situation. The heiress’s reply had been short and direct, but less than helpful: they were mired in their own fight, and couldn’t come to help until they broke through the Shadows they were fighting.

Minato massaged his temples, looking around as he tried to shrug off the pain. “Alright,” he gritted after she told him what was happening. Even speaking hurt, but there wasn’t much choice. “Narrow spaces and straight paths to rush us. We need to find a safe place to hole up until things change.”

“Shouldn’t we stay near the parking lot?” Fuuka asked, offering a bottle of water and painkillers, insisting he take them.

Minato washed the pills down with water, then took a few sips before giving it back. Just a couple draws; it wouldn’t help him if he got stomach cramps in the middle of another fight. “You stay in one place when you want someone to find you,” he told her, Evoker at the ready. “We should keep moving. Can you sense anything nearby?”

“I’m… not sure,” she admitted, frustration clear in her voice. “I don’t think there’s anything around here, but I couldn’t sense that thing that attacked us before either. And I don’t know why.”

“We’ll play it by ear then,” Minato decided, patting her shoulder and nodding when she looked at him. “Nothing too crazy, no big fights. Let’s just stay calm and stay alive, right?”

Fuuka nodded, drawing some strength from him. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

Minato nodded down the alleyway. “Someplace dark and out of the way. Let’s see what we can find.”

They walked slowly, as quiet as they could be as they checked each corner. Minato let his eyes adapt to the shifting murkiness, not moving until he was certain there wasn’t anything waiting for them. It made his headache worse, but that was a small price to pay.

Four corners passed without seeing or sensing any Shadows, and Minato walked down a narrow set of stairs that reminded him of months ago when he, Junpei and Yukari had met that friend of Akihiko-senpai’s. No one was here to give him grief this time, but he watched every corner carefully, fingering the trigger.

“Wait,” Fuuka whispered sharply, catching his shoulder. “Someone’s here. A person, not a Shadow.”

Minato stopped and nodded, looking harder into the darkness. Dumpsters, benches, broken lights… There. At the mouth of the alley opposite to where they were standing was the outline of a person, like Fuuka had said. “Come out where we can see you,” Minato told the figure, stance steady.

Shoe heels clicked loudly as they approached, the quiet around them making the sound louder. “You’re not much of a detector if you can’t sense people until they’re breathing down your neck,” a voice called mockingly. “Are Shadows all you can pick up on?”

Fuuka flinched. Minato’s eyes narrowed, but his defence of his friend stuck to his tongue. The voice was familiar, and definitely male. “I guess you’re not a victim who accidentally woke up,” Minato surmised, waiting for the figure to come close enough to see.

“Neither are you. But that shouldn’t surprise you.” The guy came forward several steps more, and Minato clenched his teeth.

Of course. Shirato. His baggy jacket suited the Dark Hour’s ambiance, and he didn’t seem concerned or cautious, not looking to the sides or over his shoulder to watch his back. All he had was a silver suitcase in his hand and a cold gleam in his eyes that sent a chill up Minato’s spine.

Was he confident that he was safe? Had he cleared the Shadows out already? Or was someone else keeping them at bay?

“You never called,” Shirato commented, wearing a smile that was anything but welcoming. “I was starting to wonder if you were all talk before. Did the Kirijo ever get back to you on those answers? Or are they spinning lies like always?”

“I kept getting their secretaries,” Minato shot back, a strained smirk on his face. Shirato wasn’t here for a social call. But what was his connection to all this? Was he just taking advantage of a gap in the Shadows’ movements, or could he do more than that? “You picked a bad time though. I’m still deciding , so let’s have this conversation some other time, alright?”

“Sure,” Shirato replied without so much as a blink. “There’s a catch though: leave Yamagishi.”

Minato froze.

Fuuka stepped back half a step. “How do you know who I am?”

“Name, grade, class, marks in home ec and machine works, past addresses and you mother’s maiden name,” Shirato rattled off, his stare boring into her like an impact drill. “That’s nothing.”

“What do you want her for?” Minato demanded, stepping in front of his comrade. “And where’d you get all that information ?”

That earned him a snort and a sneer. “Information’s free if you know where to look. The Kirijo tried purging your records, but, like everything else, they came up short. Like I said, Arisato, no rules or boundaries. What’s your decision?”

Minato shook his head, cringing when the pain returned. “You haven’t told me enough. What’s your part in all this? How do you deal with the Shadows? Why do you hate the Kirijo Group?”

“I’ll answer those questions when we’re done here,” Shirato shot back. “We’ll go for drinks and make a night of it. But Yamagishi’s a liability. Out of the way. Now.”

Fuuka gave a small gasp, her feet rooted. Minato could feel her trembling, could almost smell her fear, and knew that those two things were going to get her killed. But when he examined the offer, he couldn’t help the frustration that burned in his throat. Whatever answers Shirato had were going to be out of reach if he didn’t move, and more information was worth a lot of risk. But the alternative wasn’t an option. He hadn’t spent all this time with Fuuka, reading books and going over homework and eating her cooking. If he let her go now, ‘Nako would never let him live it down.

“That’s not happening,” Minato told Shirato, eyes narrowing as his reservations about fighting a human enemy began to fade.

If Shirato was surprised, it didn’t show. Just a ‘hm’ and a step forward. “Suit yourself. More casualties of the Dark Hour.”

Insight flared bright in Minato’s mind just then, and his teeth gritted. “Like the girl from a few nights ago? The one with half her head missing. Was that your work?”

Shirato smiled. Shrugged. And said nothing.

Anger and fire flooded Minato’s mind. He snapped his Evoker around, raising his hand with a name in mind. But a gunshot echoed through the alley half a second before he could pull the trigger.

Minato stared as Shirato was illuminated by a familiar glow. That he was a Persona User was elementary, but why did he have an Evoker?

And the bright metal mass that rushed forward blew through Minato’s own half-called Persona, the summoning slowed by the drugs and the headache. Electronic lights and metal arms, a science fiction nightmare. It had stopped his attack in its tracks, then looked down with cold calculation. Its metal arms whipped down, and all Minato could do was try and get back.

It wasn’t enough.

A metal pincer flew down and cracked into Minato’s left hand, sending blood and his Evoker across the alley. Minato recoiled, the pain sharp and hot through the adrenaline as his fingers bent at wrong angles.

The Persona loomed and swung again, coming straight for him.

And he couldn’t stop it this time.

Sorry, Fuuka.

“Minato-kun!!”

 

* * *

 

Junpei puffed and swore and cut, wiping the blood from his face. The Shadows had been hounding them even after the big one sent them all flying. He’d never seen one that size except for the ones on the full moon nights, and even the new types they were seeing in Tartarus didn’t come close. All the teeth and mouths creeped him out like nothing else had. Damned if he was going to admit that though. And damned if he was going to go back on what he’d said before: he’d supported Minato on this idea, no way was he backing out.

Another swing, a heavy kick, and a pull of the trigger turned three more into bite-sized Shadow bits. His head was killing him from summoning this much, and his bleeding shoulder was burning enough that he was gritting his teeth with each swing.

“You alright?” Yuka-tan asked, shaking her head to get the sweat off. “I think they’re backing off.”

A dull grating sound of metal on stone mocked her words. The big one was still nearby, but it didn’t seem able to enter the alleys, so it was sending the small ones after them. And so far, those small ones had done a good job of wearing them down. But Junpei noted that the pauses between waves were growing, and they felt more familiar now. Less like they were trying to run through him and more like they just wanted to shred him.

He wiped his hands off and adjusted the hold on his sword. “Still breathin’. Got a plan?”

“Not really,” she admitted after she healed his shoulder as best she could. “Stay where that thing can’t get to us and wait for the Dark Hour to end.”

“Works for me,” he told her, checking the corners and looking down the alleys. “If that’s the case, we should keep moving. Big and Ugly’s too close for my taste.”

“Be careful.”

They moved off each other, falling into habits ingrained from months of practice and fighting. Junpei checked the corners, Yukari covered him. He looked behind them, she listened for anything coming toward them. It had saved them a lot of pain in the past, and it was serving them well.

The problem came up when they turned a corner and came face to face with a dumpster up against a wall. Much as Junpei knew, they should have been circling around to the mall, and he didn’t remember any dead ends like this. “What the hell?” he muttered in disbelief.

“I think we got turned around,” Yuka-tan told him, checking the other alley exits.

“Not this much,” he replied, looking around. “I don’t think this was here before.

“It’s not a full moon, so it’s not a Shadow doing this,” she presumed, nocking an arrow. “And this place is vulnerable. Let’s look for another way out.”

Junpei stared at the wall, straining his eyes in the dark. “Yeah,” he conceded. He was almost positive this was wrong, but being out in the open like this wasn’t safe. And he had no idea how much longer the Dark Hour was going to last. “Let’s go.”

He took the lead and went down two more corridors and three turns, getting his bearings and whispering what should be coming next to himself. Yuka-tan only looked at him the first time he did it, then took it in stride.

“Should be a way out right he– Oh, come the hell on!”

“This is crazy,” Yukari whispered. “I know this place, and there shouldn’t be a wall here.”

But there was. A wall standing in front of them, this time with no dumpster, where it was least convenient. To test her growing theory, Yukari went back to the intersection they’d just passed and looked around the corner they hadn’t taken. Another wall. When she came back and looked back the way they came, she could see a wall in the distance where there hadn’t been one. “Someone’s toying with us,” she concluded after she ran her hand across the wall and wrinkled her nose in disgust at the memories the idea brought back. “I think we have to wait until the Dark Hour’s over.”

“Like that stupid hotel,” Junpei spat, rubbing his injured shoulder. “Thought we were through with–“

“Look out!” Yukari shouted, shoving him to the side and aiming up.

“Where is it?!” Junpei demanded, Evoker ready as he looked for a threat.

“It’s…” Yukari began, searching for what she knew she saw in the corner of her eye, waiting for an attack.

Fifteen long seconds passed. Nothing came.

“I know…” Yukari began, easing the tension on her bowstring. “I know I saw something up there.”

“That’s bad news if they get the drop on us,” Junpei noted. “Let’s keep moving. Even with the walls popping up, it’s better than nothing.”

“Yeah,” Yukari agreed slowly, scanning the rooftop edges one more time and coming up empty. “Sorry if I hurt you,” she told him as they started moving.

Junpei shrugged. “Nah. I can handle it, and I’d rather take the chance. Thanks for the heads-up.”

Yukari nodded but stayed silent. The prospect of being seen and ambushed was at the front of her mind, and she wasn’t sure if she was feeling like they were being followed or if she was just afraid they were. “So much for hitting the Shadows when we had the advantage, huh?” she asked in resignation.

“We’re not down yet,” Junpei replied without a lost step. “Things changed and the plan didn’t work, but we’ll kick their asses next time. Hell, we’re kicking ass right now. Betcha Akihiko-senpai’s racking up a lot of kills for us.”

Yukari smiled to herself, glad for the unwavering confidence. “I’m sure you’re right.”

They were silent for a few minutes as they moved through the alleys and encountered no one. There were muffled explosions somewhere far away, proof that the others were alive and fighting, but the pair checked their corners and counted the time until the Dark Hour ended. Yukari checked around every now and again to see if whatever had crossed their path before was following them, but she saw nothing.

“This is bullshit,” Junpei fumed when they turned a corner and saw yet another wall, tightening his grip on his sword as he looked around. “Stuck in here like rats in a maze. I’d love to know who the hell is making these things.”

 

* * *

 

People had different ways of seeing things. But then, people were strange. It was one of the first things he’d noticed when he started living at the shrine. The small humans would argue like pups over what they wore while the large humans were calmer and much less noisy. They would say “yes, your shirt looks fine,” and “stop throwing sand at your sister; you’ll get her dress dirty,” like how they looked mattered more than how they smelled. Smells made much more sense, whether it was the smoky sticks the shrine keeper burned, the oily flower-scent of the females who came to toss money into the box and ask for “good grates,” or the gravy-smelling food he’d been getting since he’d fought off the thing that had tried to attack his old den.

This time, when the world went strange, carried different smells of its own. To Koromaru, it smelled like when the fish where he went swimming had been on the beach for too long, or like the boxes the humans put their fruits into and mixed into their gardens. And as foul as it had been, the things that lived here were far, far worse. They sounded like screeching car brakes, and he knew that they, like the first one, didn’t like him. He returned the feeling, and just thinking about the thing that had attacked him made his hackles raise.

His new pack, his humans, helped him make the things silent, made the smell go away, and he loved them for it. More than for the walks and the meals and the ball, more than for the warm bed next to the furnace to curl up to. The things didn’t belong here, and he made sure that every one of them that he found didn’t get the chance to run. Even if they tried, none of them were faster than him.

The large one, though, that one was dangerous. They would need the female that smelled like both a hospital and a mechanic to fight it with her explosives. Until then, Koromaru was looking for his humans. He padded silently over the remains of the things that had run at him, smelling the ground to find the one-eyed human who always threw the ball the furthest or the female who carried the big stick. He stayed to the shadows and kept out of the puddles that smelled like rot, turning corners going down stairs until he came across a new scent. Female, and the same age as his humans. She was close to her time of the month when she would get cranky and talk about feeling “gross” and “cramped,” like the females who came to the shrine always did. Her scent was strange, but nearby. He sniffed the air, and then on the ground as he followed it. Along the cement and around another corner, and there she was.

Dead things were around her, and she was looking the other way. Her mane was red like the tall female who wore the pointy shoes, and she wore the same colour of white. This female was different though: her arms and legs were completely covered in white, and she even had it in her hair. How strange.

Was she a friend? She was different from his humans, but still a human. And all the other humans were in their black boxes at this time of night. Maybe she could help.

“Move around all you want,” the female said to herself, not turning around. “You won’t get out or interfere.”

Koromaru didn’t know what she meant, so he came forward a few steps and gave a friendly bark. Other humans liked it when they knew he was there.

The female jumped and turned around to see him, her hand at her chest. “Who’s th– Who’re you?”

Koromaru couldn’t answer in words, so he barked two more times and came closer, stopping about eight human-steps from her while panting in a friendly manner.

She bent down a little, a smile on her face. She had a nice smile, and it reached her eyes, red like the other red-maned female. “You’re… are you lost? I didn’t know dogs could travel the Dark Hour.”

That was what his humans called it. Did she know them? Her smell was new, but maybe she did know them and she just hadn’t come to his new den yet. He barked a few more times and wagged his tail. The female smiled some more, but then she saw his bandana. Red and black, the female who smelled like a fire in the kitchen seemed very happy when she tied it around his neck. He didn’t know why, but was more comfortable than a collar, so he made sure to keep it clean.

When he sniffed at her, more of her scent came through the stench of the place. She smelled like salty water, but not the sort he went swimming in, and fresh bread and cheese. She must have been here for a long time though – her clothes smelled like the rot all around him.

“SEES,” she said to herself, backing up a few steps.

Koromaru cocked his head and questioned her with a bark.

“I can’t believe… I thought Jin was lying when he said they had a dog. A dog with a Persona… that’s ridiculous.”

A Persona. That’s what his humans called them. The three bound into one who smelled like fire sparks and the cool night breeze, the three who helped him when he needed it. The female looked sad about something, shaking her head.

“He’s… this isn’t…” She looked over to the rock wall, her teeth bared. “He’s not a threat. He doesn’t deserve to– No, I haven’t forgotten. I know what they are and why we’re– Don’t you dare say that to me! Have you heard me complain even once?! Then don’t imply that I’m… No, he’s alone. But even so… I… I don’t want to. The others are one thing, but he’s a pet, not– No… No, I understand. I’ll look after it.”

Koromaru stayed quiet as she talked to… someone. He’d been taught not to interrupt humans when they were speaking, so he sat and waited until she turned back to him. She was blinking fast while her face went red.

“I… I don’t want to do this,” she told him quietly, reaching behind her. “You’re not my enemy. You have nothing to do with them, and you’re… you’re just like…”

She was sad. Koromaru let out a comforting whine and walked forward. Humans needed licks and attention when they were sad.

“Back!” she snapped, hand coming from behind her back and holding something metal and sharp. “Don’t make this any harder. It’s…I’m sorry… I’m sorry.”

Koromaru could smell her tears and hear the pain in her voice. He looked around for the rest of her pack, wondering where her humans were. He turned back when he heard the clink of chains and the sharp thing in her hand held in a tight grip.

What was she doing? He couldn’t smell any of the things, so what–

“I’m so sorry.”

Her arm flashed forward, and Koromaru yelped as the sharp thing flew past him, slicing open his side. Blood ran as he bit his cries down, jumping to the side when a second one came toward him, even faster.

The pain. His side burned and his legs felt weak. Why had she attacked him? What had he done to…

It was like that time again. The smells, the pain, how little he could move. It was happening again. All over again. Why? Because of… Because…

Her.

His teeth ground together when he growled. She had attacked him, had hurt him, and he was going to fail again. Again. Like before.

No, they told him. Not again. Stand up.

He stared at her, smelled past her tears and shivers and really smelled her. The dark rock around him faded as his growl grew louder, echoing back to him and dulling the pain. It didn’t matter. The alley didn’t matter. Only she did, and she smelled like the rot. Not because it was on her, but because it was in her. At her core and spreading out, the same as that glowing place where the things lived.

She was the same as them. The same. His growls deepened when she backed up a step, smelling of fear now.

Koromaru spread his legs, ready to lunge. He didn’t see the arcs of raw energy around him, didn’t see his Persona manifest at his call. He felt the blood stop running. The pain died off. He couldn’t stop here; he hadn’t even started. She was still standing, after all.

He breathed in and gave a long howl that echoed on the ethereal winds of power his humans had trained in him. They came forth, the heat rose, and he turned the world red.

 

* * *

 

Minato fell back a step as his senses went white. The sound of a thousand windows exploding and metal screaming a foot from his face sent him into agony again, the energy heating and cutting his face like a shrapnel explosion. He raised his broken hand to keep the light from his shut eyes, but his other arm was being pulled back, almost sending him to his back.

When Minato resisted the pull and opened his eyes, the metal Persona was gone. The walls around him were burned and scarred, and Shirato was holding his forehead and trembling, Evoker clenched as tight as his gritted teeth.

Pained breathing wheezed next to him. Minato looked and saw Fuuka shaking to the point of falling over, also holding her head. Tears streaked her pale face, and Minato used the half-second he had to put everything together.

She’d saved him, putting Lucia in the way of Shirato’s Persona at the last minute. But from how heavy that strike was, and how unused she was to fighting, the blowback looked excruciating.

“Nice trick, you little bitch,” their enemy spat from the alley. “It won’t save you a second time.” He raised his Evoker while Minato fought down the pain coursing through his hands and head.

Minato had lost his sword, his Evoker was on the ground somewhere, and Fuuka was in no condition to stay here. And now someone even more dangerous than the Shadows was winding up for another blast with a Persona they’d never seen before. Simply put. they’d walked into the bear’s den wearing fresh and seasoned fish. Minato spun and grabbed Fuuka’s hand, pulling her as he bolted. “Run!” he hissed. There was a side alley only fifteen or so metres away.

He heard the gunshot and felt the air sizzle behind him.

Fuuka flagged and followed unsteadily, barely staying on her feet. Minato pulled harder and ran faster, trying to keep his balance. Nine metres left.

Metal gears whirred as Shirato’s Persona reformed and locked onto them, its glare heavier than its body.

Four metres. “Almost there,” Minato told her, his hand clenching hard on hers. “Just a little more.”

Crackling heat erupted behind them while their shadows were cast ahead of them, outlined in red.

“Here!” Minato shouted, wrapping his arm and bad hand around Fuuka and tumbling around the corner. He pushed himself into a roll and scrambled down the alley. Not a second later, the brick and mortar detonated just above his head. The explosion left him half-deaf with ringing ears. He leaned away from the burning-hot remnants of the corner while Fuuka curled up and looked, aghast, at where they’d just been. Minato followed her stare, quelling his rising fear and forcing his mind to analyze. Breaking down wouldn’t help them here.

“Still alive down there?” Shirato called mockingly. Metal skittered against rock as he kicked something to the side, and they heard him click, click, click closer. “You’re pretty fast on your feet, aren’t you?” he continued without getting a reply. “But that makes sense; lapdogs would be good at running.”

“Are you okay?” Minato whispered, pushing past the pain so he could get to his feet and brush the larger chunks of the wall off his jacket and shoulders.

“I can move alright,” she told him, still shaky and pale and filthy from their tumble.

“Looks like this alley connects with the rest further down,” he noted, pointing while he kept his eyes on the blown-apart corner. “We need to get back to the others.”

“Done making plans?” Shirato asked as his steps stopped. There was a metal clink before something heavy hit the nearby walls, bouncing into view and pushing the two back by sight alone.

Minato and Fuuka froze for a second, the sight of the grenade cutting off their short talk in a snap. As one, they turned and bolted. The explosion was even louder this time, and Minato counted his lucky stars when the felt shrapnel whiz by him instead of connecting.

They took the first right and kept running, breathing hard but not about to even slow down. Their next turn, the only one they could take, left them facing a wall with a dumpster against it.

Fuuka stared at it in disbelief, shaking while she caught her breath. “A dead end? Here?”

Minato shook his head and touched the nearby doorknob, shouldering the door open when he found it unlocked. “Through here.” It looked like a home, simple and cramped. Minato had lived in places like this when he was between the residences the Kirijo had set up for him, and they always had a back door for a fire exit. “We can get to–” His words froze when he saw a coffin, glowing red, by the fridge. It was too small to be an adult.

“We can’t stay here,” Fuuka whispered when she saw what he did. “The people in this place, they wouldn’t be safe.”

A sudden crash blew more bricks and mortar as the metal Persona punched through the corner next to the house, sending a shudder through them and the floor.

Minato nodded to her and overrode all his ingrained manners, running through the kitchen and living room. He crashed through the back door with a hurried apology before his feet hit pavement with Fuuka close beside him. They were hemmed in by the alleys and the turns, and Shirato’s Persona raced behind them. Rolling and crashing around like a homicidal pinball, it was kept at bay only by the corners of walls and when they went into another house, this one home to even more coffins in even less space.

Minato ignored the compunctions, sending a fervent prayer for some measure of help as he pushed past the cold forms in his way. The chill he felt when he touched them left him shivering, and he grabbed Fuuka’s wrist to ease her through the tight squeeze. She’d just made it through when the glowing Persona crouched to stare at them through the window, its pincer spinning on its arm like a malevolent food blender.

“Go!” Minato snapped. The walls weren’t that thick, and he wasn’t going to bet that the coffins around him could withstand a strike from that thing. He jumped over the living room table, raced through the laundry room, and crashed through the door into another alley. They ran until they hit another intersection, and Minato skidded to a stop before he hit the opposing wall.

He flinched a bit when Fuuka crashed into him and spun to the side while staring back the way they came. An icy chill flashed up Minato’s spine, and it wasn’t from the Persona or the coffins. He turned to the right, slowly, now honestly dreading what else the night could throw at him.

Jeans with a studded belt, tattoos on pale skin, and a face that reminded Minato of the sign on bottles of poison that was framed by long hair and lit by narrow, burning eyes. Even half full, the moon illuminated the man like a stage light on a lead actor. Minato couldn’t be sure, but it looked like those tattoos moved like centipedes he man walked forward.

“Arisato, I presume.” His voice was low, smooth, and impossible to miss or ignore despite the distance. But it thrummed with something Minato couldn’t identify or miss, and his pulse picked up when he heard it. “I’m glad we could meet.”

“Be careful,” Fuuka whispered hoarsely, looking back and forth between the man and the door. “He’s…”

The man silenced her with a frown and a glance. He rested his hand on his hip and called their attention to the gun at his waist. A polished revolver. “Yamagishi,” he said with a mild shrug. “You can go. You’ll only be in the way here.”

The pair looked perplexed. “What?” she asked in disbelief.

“Your friend’s been chasing us because of her,” Minato told the man, backing in front of her protectively, “so I hope you don’t expect us to fall for that.”

“Jin has his priorities,” was the indifferent reply, “and he pursues what he wants when he has the chance. That is irrelevant though. I am Sakaki Takaya, Arisato. Did he talk about me?”

Minato grit his teeth while the adrenaline made his head pound with every heartbeat. Trying to focus on the man while failing to suppress the new, raw sense of dread was burning him out just by standing there. “No, but I guess you’re the other part to his operation and his grudge against the Kirijo Group?”

Sakaki shrugged again, somehow even more indifferent. “The Kirijo don’t concern me. They gave us the Dark Hour, and that is as far as they matter.” The man took two more steps forward, his lips lifting into a grin. “You, however… you are unusual. Unique. I want to discuss something with you. Something that will benefit both of us. Will you come with me?”

“Not a chance,” Minato told him flatly. “Shirato wants us dead, doesn’t he?”

Sakaki lifted a hand toward the door they’d just come through. “Maybe. If that’s the case, where is he now?”

Fuuka looked around and frowned, touching her forehead for a moment and creasing her brow. From what Minato could tell, she couldn’t sense the man or was reading something unexpected.

“You are different from the others,” Sakaki noted, calm yet terrifying despite not moving forward even by an inch. “If we work together, we can find out how different. I imagine we would learn a great deal from each other, and Jin has already told you what else we can offer you.”

“He attacked us and tried to kill us,” Minato replied, clenching his good hand into a fist. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

The resulting silence cooled the air even more, and Sakaki gave a small “hm” as his boots scraped against the ground when he set his stance in place. “Very well. I will see it for myself then.” A macabre smile split his face like the Cheshire Cat’s while his arms raised in praise. Head tilted back and tattoos shifting, the air hissed and snapped with blue energy as a form took shape above him.

Minato felt the breath leave him and his heart drop: another Persona-User, and he wasn’t even using an Evoker. “Get out of here,” he told Fuuka a moment later, fear and grim resolve dulling the pain.

Her head snapped toward him, her stare incredulous. “Wh–what? No! I’m not leaving–”

“Fuuka!” Minato snapped as the Persona’s outline filled out, showing a monster straight from a horror movie. Bone and bloody sinew instead of wings on outstretched bones, its body sagging instead of standing tall like the weight of its pain was bending it in half, and red muscle moving with sinew under horribly flayed skin. Minato was infinitely grateful that he couldn’t see its face. “Get out of here!”

She backed away, trembling, but she knew like he did that Lucia wouldn’t work a second time. With a sound like a gasp and a cry, she turned and ran as fast as she could.

What are you trying to do? Minato asked himself, death staring him in the eye. He’d felt this before, but it had never seemed so certain before. Protect her, I guess. Buy her a minute if I can. His Personas roiled and crashed around inside, trying to rise to the challenge before him, but they were caged without an Evoker. Sakaki’s dead look told him that his low odds weren’t just in his head. “Is this how you’re going to find out what you want?” he asked, trying his last card. “Seems like a waste of an opportunity.”

“You’d be surprised by what can be learned from people as they die,” Sakaki replied, his hand coming down to point at Minato. “So, show me.”

The Persona lunged forward, lightning ripping along its bones and its cry a death knell.

Minato shivered, calling what power he could, knowing it was futile but hoping to last long enough for Fuuka to get to safety. He raised his hands, good and broken, in a cross in front of him, and felt everything slow down. His Personas raged, the lightning hissed in spite, and the alley lit up as the bolts arced toward him.

Minato braced himself and grit his teeth, glaring at it head-on and calling as deep as he could.

A heartbeat pulsed through him. His Personas hammered at his chest and stole his breath, running through his veins and burning muscle and bone in passing.

They raced down his biceps, turned at his elbows and flew forward from his hands and forearms. Then the lightning slammed into him like a tsunami, the force of the impact blowing him back and leaving him desperately scrabbling for balance. Heat, light, and a lot of pain lanced through him from front to back like he’d been run through at the shoulders and then yanked apart by pick-up trucks.

He fell forward to stay on his feet, shaking violently and barely aware of his surroundings as his eyes burned and his ears rang. He looked down at what had been his jacket sleeves and thin armour and saw charred clothes and a lot of blood covering his torn-up arms and hands. His dinner turned over at the smell of burnt skin and fresh blood.

There was chuckling from down the alley, and he looked up to see Sakaki and his dead-man Persona coming toward him. In the back of his mind, he was amazed how far he’d been blown back. The skid marks where he’d barely stayed on his feet were almost two metres long.

“Quite a stress response,” Sakaki commented with a burning grin. “Amazing what they can do in the right circumstances, isn’t it?”

“You…” Minato began, trying to un-tense his jaw. Summoning a Persona without an Evoker was supposed to be impossible, but… had he done it? “You’ve seen this before? This is what you wanted?”

Sakaki shook his head. “No. This is a by-product. You haven’t shown me what I want yet.” The Persona’s wings stretched out, and it howled in agony as lightning, even brighter than before, snapped and raked across its entire body. “Dig deeper, Arisato! Show me!”

Minato raised his ripped hands again, numb to the pain and distantly aware that he was probably going into shock. But he clenched his hands and called his Personas, forcing them down the same pathways they took before. Pain bloomed in his arms and he felt his blood run when they answered. The light and heat flew forward and surrounded him, scorching his clothes and pelting him with rock pieces torn from the nearby walls. The tearing sensations went right down to the bones this time, and when he was blown back, he overbalanced and fell over himself, tripping and tumbling on the ground as the lightning soared above him. The flash was so bright that all he saw were splotches of colour when he tried to get his bearings. The ringing in his ears, the cold ground under his back, and the light-headedness from blood loss and his muscles screaming from being pushed past their limits, it all told him that, for now, he was mostly alive.

Hands grabbed his arm and pulled him up, shuffling him around a corner and holding him steady when he almost fell over.

“Come on,” Fuuka told him, steadier and more in control than before. “Junpei-kun and Yukari-san are here and we can get away from him if we– what happened to your hands?!”

“Not so loud,” he mumbled, trying to stop his head from spinning. His stomach was churning and rolling like a washing machine in a centrifuge, and he couldn’t keep the bile down completely.

“Minato-kun!” he heard Yukari call from somewhere. Was she nearby? Far away? “Hold still. Don’t try to move around.”

Minato staggered forward and pushed Fuuka aside when he went to his knees. Leaning on his ruined hands was a new definition of pain to add to his growing list, but he couldn’t think of anything else when his coughs and hacks went straight into violently throwing up, cringing as his muscles tensed and rocked which only made it worse.

“There, get it out,” Yukari told him while patting him on the back. A gunshot and a hazy blue glow took the edge off the pain and quelled his stomach a bit. It was a small comfort though; he was running on empty and his arms were about to give out.

Minato nodded and fought to get to his feet, trying to turn back to Sakaki and Shirato. Junpei was already by the mouth of the alley, watching and ready. Minato’s legs wobbled and quaked when he tried to stand, and Fuuka moved next to him to hold him up. “Where are they?” he croaked out.

Junpei peeked around the corner, Evoker ready and eyes cautious, but he turned back with a perplexed expression on his face. “No one’s there. Were they tired or outnumbered?”

Minato shook his head, but that only made the world spin again. He would have fallen if Yukari hadn’t worked under one of his torn-up arms and stabilized him. “We’ve got a way out of here,” she told them, nodding to Junpei and Koromaru. When had the dog gotten here? “Let’s find the others. Take it slow and careful. Keep your eyes open.”

“You got it,” Junpei told them grimly, showing none of his bravado from before. Even Koromaru’s responding bark was quiet and withdrawn, and he was limping from the half-healed gash on his side.

Minato closed his eyes while Fuuka worked under his other arm. He tried not to think about everything swirling around him, all the questions and the sinking feeling that his decision to lead the team had landed them into this mess. He tried not to think of what they would say when he was in one piece, or how Mitsuru-senpai was going to take it.

And as he thought these things, he heard a deep, sonorous voice murmur in the back of his head. A voice that understood and commanded:

“Let them go.”

 

* * *

 

Kirijo Mitsuru poured a generous serving of honey into her black tea, stirring it mechanically and inhaling the scent of caffeine in hot water. She sighed when she thought of how many cups she’d had since they’d arrived at the hospital. But she couldn’t sleep. She had to gather accounts, compile information and wait for the doctors to come back with news on her companions, and once her eyes closed, she wouldn’t be back to the waking world for a while.

The office set aside for her and the others was as full as she wanted. Akihiko was clenching and unclenching his fists while sitting in a chair whose comfort was lost on him and Aigis stood at attention, her expression coming close to “troubled.” Iori, Yamagishi and Takeba had breezed through their examinations, given vitamin-rich food and drinks before they fell asleep in the waiting room. Amada’s exultation and clear joy for a night gone well for his prospects of joining the team, his enthusiasm at being closer to “one of them,” had been dampened by the news of their comrades. He’d been pacing outside the room where Koromaru was being checked out until one of the hospital staff pushed him into a chair. He was asleep before he could protest.

“Let’s go over what we know,” Mitsuru told the two with her, closing the blinds against the rising sun. She didn’t need a reminder how much sleep none she wasn’t getting. “How is Koromaru?”

“Something sharp cut him from shoulder to leg,” Akihiko replied, pale but functioning well despite his obvious concern and fatigue. “They say it was pretty deep, but it healed enough to be manageable. He had other burns and cuts from what looks like a serious fight, and he pushed himself to find Junpei and Takeba. She healed him as much as she could, and the doctors say he’ll probably make a full recovery, but he needs rest so that nothing sets wrong. That could take up to a week.”

“Persona-Users are known to heal faster than normal humans,” Aigis commented. “It is good that Koromaru-san will not be adversely affected from his wounds.”

“Do we know how it happened?” Mitsuru asked, tapping the small wooden box on the table in front of her while she took a long drink of too-hot tea.

Aigis nodded. “Koromaru-san said that he fought a Persona-User when she attacked him. He found her after the group was assaulted by the anomalously large Shadow we eliminated. His wounds are a likely result of his fight with this person.”

“Do we have a description to go on?” Akihiko asked, getting up to stretch.

“A woman of Minato-san’s age with red hair and white clothes,” Aigis clarified in her straightforward manner, though it was hard to miss the thin thread of concern in her voice. “He didn’t say anything more than that.”

Mitsuru half-drained her tea and brought out another teabag while turning the nearby hot water kettle on despite Akihiko’s warning frown. “What about that Shadow? Do we know where it came from?”

“It seemed to be an amalgamation of smaller Shadows,” Aigis confirmed. “Kirijo Group records note that such occurrences are very rare. If we encounter another one, caution and extreme prejudice should be exercised.”

“That’s as far as we can go with the Shadows,” Akihiko began. “But what about the Persona-Users that attacked Arisato and the others? What was their angle.”

“Arisato says they both wanted something different,” Mitsuru recounted. “One wanted Yamagishi dead, probably because they know about her talents, and the other seemed fixated on Arisato himself. Yamagishi told me everything she could after she was cleared and I’ve passed on the names and descriptions onto the Group. I expect them to get back to me shortly.” Someone knocked at the door just then, and Mitsuru rose to her feet after draining her teacup. “Come in.”

The Kirijo Group’s most trusted doctor, Iwata Eita, entered and closed the door behind him, his posture straight despite the amount of work they’d brought him in the dead of night. “Kirijo-san,” he said in greeting.

Mitsuru bowed politely in reply, as did the others. The man had been one of the loudest protestors to Kirijo Kouetsu’s experiments, and had been selected to be the team’s medical expert given his knowledge of Personas and how they affected the human body. He’d also professed to having a soft spot for Takeba, saying she reminded him of his own daughters. “What can you tell us, doctor?”

“Koromaru is going to be alright with some rest,” he told them first, opening a metal medical chart. “We have him on a saline drip and some new drugs that should help him recover completely. He’ll be groggy at first, though, so keep an eye on him.”

“When he is released, I will ensure that Koromaru-san has ample opportunity to recover undisturbed,” Aigis assured the doctor.

Iwata nodded, flipping the pages over while his lips set in a firm line. “Arisato Minato is recovering in stable condition. He sustained burns and numerous lacerations to both hands and both forearms, and his left hand was broken in three places. The basic healing he received before he got here stopped the wounds from being worse, though he will need time to recover. Scars and nerve sensitivity are expected, at least at first. Between what he’d lost by the time he got here and what we needed to assess the damage he’s sustained, we gave him two units of blood as well. Luckily, his type is very common.”

“Blood transfusions?” Akihiko demanded. “He was in bad shape, sure, but why did he need surgery?”

Mitsuru went pale but stayed silent, fingers tight around her teacup. The thought of Arisato, their trump card who came through everything with a laugh and a dry smile, being so badly injured chilled her to the bone and made her fingers itch for her sword. Whoever did this to him had a lot to answer for.

“Corrective surgery, you might call it,” Iwata replied, tapping the chart. “Relatively minor, but his injuries were very unusual, and we wanted to be safe. There were also some… peculiarities about him when we ran our tests.”

“Arisato’s a unique member of our group, doctor,” Mitsuru told him. “Even among us, he is different.”

The doctor nodded, though his expression didn’t change. “I understand, but this is something new. When we tested Arisato after he fainted back in April, we detected certain power spikes and traits in him that were mostly consistent with a Persona-User. Those readings are different now, and the nature of his wounds lead me to believe that he underwent a change in the last twenty-four hours.”

Akihiko scratched his cheek in thought. “A change? Like a mutation of his Personas or something? He has more than one of them, would that make a difference?”

“Arisato said he was attacked by a man who could use a Persona without needing an Evoker,” Iwata told them. “That’s an anomaly in the trends we’ve seen so far. When Arisato was attacked, he didn’t have his Evoker but he still managed to protect himself, at least in a rudimentary way. This suggests that he’s beginning to exhibit the same trait, that being attacked triggered a survival response so strong that he summoned his Personas without needing an Evoker.”

Mitsuru blinked, floored at the implications as she rested her hand on the box in front of her. “That’s possible? Aigis and Koromaru don’t use guns as their Evokers, but the process is the same. How can someone bypass the need for an Evoker?”

“And why him and this person who attacked him?” Akihiko asked after scratching his cheek for a second. “We’ve all been in situations where we’ve almost died or almost lost control of our power, and none of us have changed or evolved like that.”

“That’s why it’s a unique case,” Iwata replied. “All the other cases I know of, Sanada-san, are like what you describe. Arisato broke the rule of averages, however, and manifested his powers to respond to his needs. It is also possible that being near someone who can summon without an Evoker showed him, consciously or not, how to do it. Arisato might have been influenced by the person who attacked him and essentially copied the process and technique when his life depended on it.”

“That’s a frightening thought,” Mitsuru murmured, closing her eyes in momentary thought. “Learning something that quickly and using it on reflex. If that’s what he did, then he’s a genius in this regard.”

“Not completely,” the doctor told her, flipping pages again. “That brings me to the nature of his injuries and why he needed the surgery. His left hand suffered from several broken bones, consistent with his account of losing his Evoker. The blood loss came from when something, or more than one something, blew out of his arms and hands.” All three looked at him in incredulity and horror. “The burns on his hands and forearms, first-degree and concentrated around the centre of the forearms, can be explained from his account of the events: he was trying to defend himself. However, I have a theory that his Personas used his body as the catalyst. The lacerations he sustained were very irregular, looking like something came out of him instead of went in to cause the damage. If he’s strong enough to create that reaction and willing to disregard the need for safety, it explains how he did it and why he survived whoever attacked him.”

“You think his own Personas tore through his arms to get out?” Mitsuru asked, aghast. “That’s terrible. He gets headaches and has mentioned that the Personas feel like they are alive sometimes, but to cause him this kind of injury?”

“It’s a stress response,” Akihiko told her, understanding in his voice. “Life over limb. Survival’s the first rule. If that is the case, then it makes sense. What does this tell us about him though?”

“Suffering internal trauma from his Personas puts his life at risk,” Iwata replied simply. “There’s no other way to look at it. If the Personas had taken a shorter route, they might have exploded his heart or come out of his stomach. The injuries are manageable this time, but this cannot become a regular event for him. Even if he is a Persona-User, he’s still human, and his body wouldn’t be able to handle the strain.”

“We’ll look after him,” Mitsuru promised, already thinking of changes to their team line-up to account for this event. She wouldn’t ground him, of course, but having a back-up in place for the chance that he lost his Evoker again couldn’t hurt.

“Aside from that, he’s conscious and recovering,” Iwata concluded, closing his chart. “His arms will need time to heal and his left hand is in a cast, but Takeba did a good job in mitigating the damage. He should make a good recovery if everything goes well.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Akihiko told the man, bowing. Mitsuru and Aigis followed suit.

“Of course,” Iwata replied with a smile. “If you’ll excuse me. My shift ended several hours ago.”

The doctor left and Mitsuru tapped the box in thought. “Personas without an Evoker,” she said to herself. “I thought I knew everything there was to know about them.”

“Seems like things are changing,” Akihiko told her, looking at her gravely. “This gets me to thinking about someone else we can bring on. He might be able to help Arisato and the others.”

Mitsuru knew who he was talking about, and she shook her head when the name came to her mind. “You still think Shinjiro will come back?” she asked, not unkindly but not easily. “He made his decision before, and every time you try to talk to him, you two end up fighting.”

“Things have changed,” he repeated. “Amada being here might make a difference, and if we’re going up against other Persona-Users, we’ll need all the help we can get. Even if he doesn’t come back, it’s better that he knows what’s going on so he doesn’t get caught in the crossfire.”

Mitsuru let out a resigned breath and gave an assenting nod. “Do what you feel you need to. If you can convince him, then I won’t stop you.”

Akihiko nodded and left the office, heading down the hallway in long strides.

“Was this Shinjiro-san a comrade of yours, Mitsuru-san?” Aigis asked.

“That’s hard to explain,” the redhead replied, picking up the box and walking around the table, ignoring the chance for more tea. “And it’s a very long story. If he comes back, I think you’ll see for yourself.”

Mitsuru left her office and slowly walked past the waiting room where the rest of the team was asleep, leaning on pillows and covered with blankets provided by the nurses. She walked carefully so she wouldn’t wake them and slipped into Arisato’s room. His bed was the only one there, and the bright sunlight coming through the window clashed with the sterile smell of antiseptic. When she came over to him, her heart lurched a little when she saw the bandages and the cast, like the doctor had said. An IV drip was attached to the back of his right hand and his skin looked a little sickly.

“Senpai,” he greeted from the bed, eyes narrow and a bit unfocused. He seemed to be fighting off the effects of the vitamins and painkillers. He nodded to the nearby chairs, looking smaller than normal in hospital scrubs and propped up on pillows. In spite of the attentions of professional medical personnel, his eyes was still covered by a curtain of hair. “Can I offer you a seat?”

Seeing him this vulnerable was another new experience for Mitsuru, one that left her wishing she’d been there to help him, to protect him. “I’ll stand, thank you,” she replied with an encouraging smile. “How are you?”

“Tired and drugged, but I can’t sleep,” he told her simply. He looked exhausted and she knew how hard he found it to sleep during the day. “But it’s better than being in that alley. Are the others alright?”

Despite what he’d gone through, he was still in his role as leader. She smiled to herself and wondered how he’d taken it on so easily. “Koromaru should be fine, and the others have been looked after. You were smart, protecting Yamagishi like that. Someone else might not have lasted that long.”

“Small consolation when I couldn’t help her at the end,” he groused. “Feels like everything went sideways from the word ‘go.’”

“And none of that was your fault,” she assured him in a tone that brooked no argument. “Yamagishi told me what happened. You adapted to the situation and achieved the best result we could have hoped for. You should be proud of that.” He didn’t look convinced, and she frowned a bit mockingly. “I’ll make that an order if I have to, Arisato.”

He looked surprised, then smiled a bit. Not enough to dispel the shadows in his eyes, but it was a start. “What’s the damage?” he asked, holding up his arms. Mitsuru recounted the doctor’s report, including his theory about where the injuries came from and how Minato’s talents had changed. “Summoning a Persona without an Evoker,” he murmured to himself. “So I’m like him?”

It was easy to see where his mind was going, and she shook her head when she had his attention. “No, you’re not. Your injuries are proof that there’s a difference between you and Sakaki Takaya.” She laid the box on his bed and snapped it open, pulling out his Evoker. Cleaned and polished, Alea iacta est shone at them both in the morning light. “The police found it in the alleys and returned it last night,” she explained. “Keep using it, don’t let go of it, and you’ll have nothing to worry about.” She reached out and patted him on the shoulder a bit clumsily, and for some reason the grateful look he gave her, and the heat under her fingertips, made her blush.

“Thanks, Senpai,” he told her with a nod. “You’re right. I’ll hang onto it from now on.”

Mitsuru pulled her hand back and nodded. “Good. Let me know if you want to talk about anything.”

She’d turned to leave, but stopped when she heard a quiet “Senpai,” from behind her. Arisato was blushing about something and looking out the window before he turned back to her.

“There is something I’d like to ask, since you bring that up. And I know it’s going to be a bit strange to ask this when I’m…” He raised his hands, careful not to jostle them. “But if you have a moment?”

Mitsuru nodded and gave him a “go ahead” signal with her hand. “I’ll certainly listen. What is it?”

He took s a few seconds to get his bearings, shifting around and clearly wrestling with something. “There’s a festival at the shrine this week,” he told her, slowly and not without clearing his throat a few times. “I was wondering if you’d like to go to it with me when they let me out of here.”

Mitsuru blinked, unprepared for the question. It was true that the festival was coming up, though she’d given it no thought before he mentioned it. She respected the traditions of Tatsumi Port Island, of course, but she rarely had the time for such activities. They were more Yamagishi’s style anyway. “We can visit it if you like,” she told him, prepared to make an exception. “It will be good for the others to do something fun, and it can serve as a group bonding exercise.”

“I wasn’t thinking of it like that,” he admitted, turning even more red but still looking her in the eye. “I was… thinking more along the lines of a date.”

Silence reigned in the room for several long seconds. Mitsuru blinked a few times as the words, and the implications sunk in. “Are you asking me out?” she asked, quiet and disbelieving.

Arisato squared his shoulders and looked her in the eye, his tone still friendly and familiar, but also determined and set. “That’s right. Not as Student Council reps or team mates, but a real date.”

The reasons why she should turn him down, her link to the Kirijo Group, their responsibilities, his injuries and part on the team, came immediately to mind. They were all solid and had good logic behind them. But when she saw the sincerity in his eye, steady and hopeful beyond what the drugs could distort, none of those reasons seemed important. Instead, “Yes. I’d like that,” made its way shyly from her lips just before they turned up in a smile. Her heart fluttered like a happy butterfly, and she felt lighter than a minute before. “I’d be glad to go to the festival with you, Arisato.”

He let out a breath and matched her smile with his own. “That’s great, Senpai. Thank you very much.”

“This is on the condition of you being well enough to leave the hospital by then,” she told him, back to business but still smiling. “I can’t permit you aggravating your condition and making your injuries worse. So make sure you rest up and get better by then.”

“I will, Senpai,” he promised, looking more like his normal self with his glittering eye and familiar smile.

They exchanged a few more pleasantries before she told him to get some rest and left the room. When Mitsuru slid the door shut behind her, she stepped to the side and leaned back against the wall with a long exhale, surprised by what she had agreed to. A real date? And a real date with Arisato, no less? It wasn’t the same as her asking about fast food restaurants or them studying together for tests. This was different, and even she with her admittedly non-existent experience could see that. Just like in the room, when all the logical reasons for why she should be focusing on their responsibilities and the job at hand and not on good-looking guys with nice smiles came to mind, she couldn’t beat down the joy in her heart at being asked out. She couldn’t brush Arisato off the way she could everyone else. No one else had gotten this close to her before, and how natural having him at her side felt made her smile.

There were still so many things had to be done. The entire team was exhausted, her father had to be informed of the changes in the situation, and she would have to stay on top of any changes in the Shadows and Tartarus until Koromaru and Arisato were ready for combat again. Akihiko trying to convince Shinjiro to join SEES again was bound to result in some fireworks, and she had to be ready for all the possible outcomes. And now, with the festival six days away, she would have to talk to the Kirijo maids about something to wear. Something fitting for the event. Maybe Takeba would have some advice on the matter.

So much to do, and so many more things to consider now than when she’d talked to the doctor, but through the growing mental load and the sleepless exhaustion, Kirijo Mitsuru found that she didn’t mind in the least.

 

* * *

 

The heat didn’t matter to her like it did to humans, and the humidity was only a problem if she stayed outside. Her internal batteries could keep her running with full combat loadouts for another two months before she had to consider going back to the Kirijo scientists. She was getting their ‘Return to base’ signals less frequently now, the compulsion to obey an ignorable buzz in her ear and nothing more.

She was still investigating the power spike and KASW 0-2-0 A, call sign “Aigis.” That took top priority, and what she’d learned puzzled her. Being puzzled was a new experience, a state of possessing facts yet not knowing what their significance was or what pattern they were following. The first time she’d felt it, it had been novel and fascinating and raised dozens of questions about her own mental schemas. Now it was what could be best described as annoying. Having questions with no answers was a state of mind she hadn’t expected when she’d left.

Why was Aigis living with the human Shadow-hunters instead of the Kirijo Group? Why was she integrating with the humans instead of hunting the Shadows regularly? And given the power fluctuation she sensed the other night, why hadn’t she acted?

After speaking to the human wearing green who’d given her the information she wanted, she’d found her target. And he was living with Aigis, talking to her, and neither looked like they were going to fight the other. This didn’t make sense. Aigis was an anti-Shadow weapon like her, so why was the human still standing? And why weren’t the power spikes consistent? If he was the source of what she’d felt why didn’t she feel it when she’d seen him being carried away?

So many unknowns, and every scenario she ran through her processors only left her with more questions. Questions that would change her responses based on their context. Which led her to the only viable conclusion and common link: Tartarus. Aigis and the human went there to explore, and they would both be challenged by the Shadows. Maybe she would feel the power surge again, maybe she would have a chance to talk to Aigis alone. But either way, the possibilities were too varied and too much for her to do nothing.


	9. Prise de Fer

“Of course, sir,” Ikutsuki replied on the phone. “I’ll make sure the arrangements are made.”

“Make sure that you do,” Kirijo-san told him stonily. “I understand that records from ten years ago are hard to find, but I’ll accept no further excuses for someone not telling Mitsuru or the rest of the team about details pertinent to the investigation.”

“Understood. It won’t happen again,” Ikutsuki promised with a smile.

“Good.” And the line went dead.

Ikutsuki’s smile iced over. “A fine day to you as well, sir,” he told his empty office quietly before setting the phone receiver back in its cradle, his jawbones pushing against his skin as he clenched his teeth. Damn him. Damn that man. Who did he think he was, addressing Ikutsuki like he was a servant or some mere administrator? The indignity of it galled him, and he had to close his eyes to choke off the anger. It took longer than usual, but he pushed the feelings down and thought of something more productive to do. Ikutsuki leaned back in his chair and swiveled around to look at one of the numerous bookcases.

The contents were what anyone would expect from a historian, as well as a few oddities that had served as perfect conversation pieces. Books on Ancient Greece and Rome from the days of Romulus and Remus right up to the collapse of the Empire, Middle Eastern myths and lore reaching back further than The Crusades, and two entire wall units dedicated to the rise and fall of many of China’s dynasties as far back as the Record of the Three Kingdoms.

What was unusual, he knew, was the polished crucifix set on purple velvet with two tall white candles on each side. He’d been asked numerous times if he was religious on account of the icon, and the thought always made him smile. Across the room from the crucifix was the bookshelf that held a polished bronze Buddha, a thick, half-melted red candle on each side and an incense bowl in front of it. Christian or Buddhist, people would ask which he was.

Ikutsuki stood and walked to the Buddha statue, touching the edge of the shelf and inspecting the bronze of the figure and the plates holding the candles for any sign of tarnish. It had been a pursuit in his youth, he remembered, and one that felt so... quaint now. He’d been at the top of his class in school, always striving to match the accomplishments of his brother, Akio, who was almost seven years older than him. When he was in his final year of high school, his brother had graduated from university and been hired by the Nanjo Group, back before the Kirijo separated from them. On a way back from a party function less than six months later, however, his brother had been killed by a drunk farmer in a pick-up truck who ran the light. The others in the car had survived almost untouched, but his brother, sitting at the impact point, had died four days later of his terrible injuries.

His parents were devastated. Ikutsuki drove himself to surpass his already-impossible standards to meet their expectations, but they’d retreated into themselves and his attempts at getting to them went ignored. He went to the most prestigious university he could, burning for an answer. He needed to know why his brother died and no one else had. But his studies had given him no answers, only facts and logic. Counselors had been of no use, telling him to accept that it had been out of anyone’s control, and when rational thought failed him, he turned to religion. He explored every facet of Christianity, and that had been even worse. “Do good and the Lord will be thy Shepherd,” they’d told him. “God protects his beloved children, no matter where they are or what they have done,” had been the answer when he’d pushed further. He’d asked why Akio had died when no one else had, and all they gave him was platitudes. Had Akio sinned when the others hadn’t? Was God punishing him for something and killed his brother as a warning? The priests had told him that line of reasoning was misguided, but when he asked why God would let a good, intelligent, compassionate man die while his sake-soaked co-workers only had to live with the hangover the next morning, there was only rhetoric and empty Bible verses. Words to comfort the sheep, an opiate to the dull masses. After months of prayer and searching for answers, he left the church on the words “Keep praying to your God, and tell me if he answers you. I’ll find something else that gives me what I need.”

Because the Western faiths had failed him, he returned to Japan and sought out answers from the Zen monks at the Kiyomizu temple. Ikutsuki snorted. No, there were no answers there either. Death was a transition, Buddhists taught. One who lived well and followed the tenets of the faith would receive enlightenment. But they hadn’t addressed his questions about why death was necessary, or why one had to die before they would know if what they did was enough. And it was easy, Ikutsuki argued, to see death as a gentle or swift thing. But that wasn’t how it had been for Akio. Whiplash so strong it had almost broken his neck, shattered ribs and ruptured organs, coughing up blood from punctured lungs and slowly dying from, along with everything else, a nicked appendix the doctors had missed. Blood poisoning, Ikutsuki learned as he stayed with him until the end, was a terrible way to go. And neither Christ nor the Buddha had cared enough to answer, and the thought festered in his mind.

He’d thought he’d reached an answer in the Hindu faith. There was an entire pantheon of gods to provide answers instead of just one, and each god was fluid enough to have a variety of names and aspects. It had seemed like the best choice after the previous two failures. What he’d found, however, was an oppressive system that fed on the same fear as Christianity, but this time it was even more insidious. Instead of one’s deeds defining where they went in the afterlife only once, the Hindu priests saw the soul as an immortal thing that was bound to the wheel of reincarnation, and one’s sins followed them through their every rebirth until they proved themselves worthy of being released from it. The Indian castes had defined where one went in life, and one was always born where they belonged. Akio, the Hindus had said, died because he was still atoning for crimes and foul deeds committed in a past life, and instead of working with Ikutsuki to treat the matter with some delicacy, they’d bluntly condemned Akio without even knowing what he was like or what he’d suffered before he died. Ikutsuki had left that even, fed up with a religion that demanded that people be sheep or suffer degrading reincarnations for eternity. Again, no answers. And at the time, he didn’t have a new direction to go in.

That had all changed when he’d met Kirijo Kouetsu. The man was grasped by a vision of the future so powerful that all who met him could feel its gravity, and few were those who didn’t support him. Ikutsuki worked sixty-hour weeks to catch his attention, begging for the chance to work with such a man. And when the Shadow projects began, Ikutsuki learned the man’s true objectives: tapping into the power of a being so powerful that it would separate the lions from the sheep in an instant. A being that would answer when called on. The Shadows were the instruments of its will, and that alone was enough to tell him that he was, after 16 years, finally on the right track.

Ikutsuki shivered in the warm room, still remembering the glorious rebirth, the epiphany, that the man’s words had inspired in him. More than just the Christians and the Buddhists, none of the religions had it right. Death had been a means to an end to them, whether for judgment or enlightenment or a final grand war. But Kouetsu-sama’s vision was the true way of things. He’d explained why Akio had died, and the younger man had turned his back on his false beliefs ever since. Death was never the means to the end. Death was the end. All things died, and that end was glorious in its finality. No afterlife, no ascension, no lies. Only the assurance of the marvelous end that awaited them all. Akio had only died horribly because the doctors had tried to save him. In their misguided foolishness, they’d only prolonged his suffering and kept him from reaching a far, far more perfect end. They should have left him, Ikutsuki knew now, or euthanized him after their parents had been told.

Kouetsu-sama’s vision was the right course; he didn’t fear death. People feared it the same way sheep feared wolves: afraid because it was their nature, because they never thought beyond it. Kouetsu-sama courted it, understood it, and let nothing, not the Shadows or the children with their half-awakened Personas, get in the way. He sought to make death his, becoming master of the living through his attempts to reach her. And when he came to control death, he would have controlled life. And then everyone would see the truth, that his way was the truth, just as Ikutsuki had come to see it.

Ikutsuki growled under his breath. There was no way that Kouetsu-sama could be wrong, but his ungrateful son and misguided idiot of a granddaughter both failed to see the majesty of the man’s vision. Slandering his name and deeds after he died, even having the nerve to protest when he’d still been alive... The thought was infuriating. They saw the lengths he went to as maniacal, his desires as insanity, and it was galling to see so much purpose, to see the truth, dragged through the mud like they... like they understood him. As though their misguided desires and clinging to life would count for anything in the end when all they saw was the same flawed picture that everyone else had. So many blind, ignorant sheep who looked at the visionary and stupidly saw a tyrant to be feared.

Ikutsuki quelled his rising temper. As much as he wanted to shout at the ignorant children who made up SEES, scream at them that they saw so little of the real picture and should be glad to have even known the name Kirijo Kouetsu, it wasn’t time for that. Not yet. When Kouetsu-sama died, Ikutsuki had taken the research notes and data and assumed the role of harbinger. The man’s desires were too great to be lost because of a foolish mistake. Sheep needed a shepherd, after all, and he wouldn’t be able to make Kouetsu-sama’s vision a reality without SEES. Until then, he had to wait. Had to prepare and endure their foolishness. And when the night fell forever...

Ikutsuki chuckled, remembering the long discussions with the man he’d given his life to. The experiments on the Shadows, the thrill of their killing potential, and the goal at the end of the tunnel, shining like a star that came closer with every passing night.

He smiled even more when he recalled the destruction of the lab, the fury and death that had consumed almost everyone. So many were simply torn apart by the Shadows, but he was fortunate to see as many details as he did. Kato-san had her right arm and leg crushed to a meaty paste before one of the Shadows kicked her hard enough to send her into the containment room wall, breaking her like a china statue. Sasaki-san’s screams sounded like they persisted in the room after a Shadow had raced right through her, sending her innards and shattered spine splattering across the floor. Ine-san and Hayashi-san had been especially memorable, their screams as they burned alive still bringing him shivers that ran from head to heels. And of course, he chuckled, Takeba Eiichiro... there was no way he could forget Takeba-san. Very few men could keep going after a torn-apart window frame, still edged with jagged glass, had been lodged in their face. Fewer still would have been trying to crawl after a blind slash from a Shadow’s claws had torn their legs in two at the knees. Struggling and trying to get back to his lab, it had taken him a while to die, and through it all he never screamed. He’d been an admirable show of the beauty of death, second only to Kouetsu-sama: such a sublime end, limbs and head blown from the torso, was enviable beyond measure, and Ikutsuki could only hope that his death would be half as sublime.

When he closed his eyes and let the memories of fire and panic and screams return, he found that could still smell the burning flesh, the charred bodies and the thick, heavy smoke.

 

* * *

 

“What are you doing?!” a harsh voice snapped, startling her and making her turn to see who it was.

Fuuka blanched when she saw the towering figure in a dark brown coat. She’d been trying to make lunch and was waving the smoke away enough to get to the oven and shut it off, but the water she was boiling had fallen off the stove and spilled on the floor. She’d gone to grab a mop, not wanting to risk handling the dials of an electric oven while standing in water, and he’d come in while she was making a path for herself. The smoke had gone unnoticed by Yukari-san, in the middle of her afternoon shower, and by Ikutsuki-san who was upstairs in his office. The others had gone to the hospital to pick up Minato-kun and Koro-chan. Junpei-kun had offered to change the batteries in the smoke detector earlier that morning, but went with the others to buy the batteries in question when he realized they were out.

That led her to where she was now: trying to clean up her attempt at cooking and facing an irate Shinjiro-senpai, who was waving at the smoke and swearing as he walked over the water and shut off the oven. “I... um... thought I’d make lunch for everyone,” she told him, stepping back and feeling useless when he opened the window to vent out the kitchen.

“What were you trying to make?” he snapped, looking at the utensils and remains of her ingredients on the counter. “It smells like burnt rice and pickles in here, and neither of those need an oven.”

Fuuka shuffled a bit from foot to foot. The newest addition to SEES, who was more of a returning member and thus carried the same seniority and gravitas as Mitsuru-senpai and Akihiko-senpai, frightened her more than a little. He never smiled, and took on questions and requests with an obvious annoyance that had scared her off when she’d meant to ask him if he preferred certain foods when she was going shopping. “It’s... sorry for the inconvenience,” she mumbled, looking at the ground and feeling his glare prickle her skin like an entire tray of small-gauge needles. “Thank you for helping me. I’ll clean up now, so you don’t have to be here.”

Shinjiro-senpai stepped to the side and went quiet. Fuuka bit her lip while she cleaned out the oven and sighed at another failed attempt. This was the sixth one, and while she hadn’t set the stove on fire this time, it was hardly a consolation when what used to be raw ingredients came out as a familiar lump of charcoal. She’d tried making something more than simple rice since she was sure that Minato-kun would want more than that, especially after his stay at the hospital, but it hadn’t gone according to plan. At all.

She was beginning to wallow in self-pity and lament her ever getting started on this crazy idea when she heard shuffling at the counter where her printouts and Internet recipes were. “Is this what you’re going off of?” Shinjiro-senpai asked, holding them up.

Fuuka nodded, tossing the charred lump into the garbage and wiping her hands clean on a dish rag. “I don’t know where to start with cookbooks, so those were the best I could do.”

His narrow eyes ran down the page before flicking back to her. “Did you check the scales on the recipes when you were printing them off? Like how many people they are supposed to serve? Or which course you’re making and when it should go into the oven?”

“Scales?” Fuuka thought it through, off balance at the candid question and his less-unfriendly-than-usual tone.“Um, no. I just looked for ‘teriyaki beef’ and printed off what I could find.”

“That explains it,” he told her with a sharp sigh. “These’re meant for cruise liners, where they marinate everything for hours before they cook them.”

She’d heard of marinating, of course. She just wasn’t sure which step to start with or what ingredients would go well together, and decided not to tell him that.“Oh. Um... Would that make a difference?”

Shinjiro-senpai tapped the papers slowly and steadily, and she couldn't tell if he was getting irritated or if he was trying to make a point. “It would when your times are this off. How long did you have them in the oven?”

“A...a recipe I looked at said for half an hour.”

“At a lower temperature,” he told her slowly, enunciating each and every syllable. “Marinated and cooked for a longer time at a lower temperature or cooked for less time at a higher temperature, but not both.”

Fukka swallowed, feeling her eyes sting at making such a basic mistake. It was bad enough knowing that she was no further ahead than when she’d started, but overlooking something that sounded so simple when someone else explained it made her want to crawl into a hole somewhere. “I... I understand, Senpai. Please excuse me, I’ll finish up here if you need the kitchen.”

She could feel his glare, which kept her standing in place and almost trembling, but then he sighed. “Help me clean this stuff up,” he told her with less broken glass in his voice. “Arisato’s coming home soon and he doesn’t need to breathe smoke when he’s recovering.”

Cleaning up. Yes, she could do that. That didn't involve cooking anything, after all. “Of course. Thank you.”

The water ran at the sink as he rolled his sleeves up and washed his hands. “And then we’re going to do this right.”

Fuuka blinked, stopping in place and certain she'd heard him wrong. “I... What? Are you...”

“If you’re set on cooking, you need to do it right," he told her as he dried his hands and nodded to the stove. "And you’re wasting food by burning it.”

She was still sure she'd heard him wrong, or misunderstood what was becoming a very simple conclusion. “But... You’re offering to teach me? You know how to cook, Shinjiro-senpai?”

“It’s better than you filling the dorm with smoke,” he grumbled while putting on a clean apron. It looked pitifully small on his tall, broad frame, almost clinging to him like a frightened child, but she bit her tongue to keep from mentioning it. “With my luck you’ll get hungry tonight and burn some popcorn or something instead of just making it. And that smell gets into everything and stays around forever, and then Mitsuru’ll get her skirts in a twist and make us clean it up and... Look, just help me out and we’ll make something edible, alright?”

Fuuka grinned foolishly and bowed in gratitude so fast that she almost fell over. “I... Yes, Senpai! Thank you.”

Shinjiro-senpai grunted and shook his head. “There’ll be a tonne of problems if you light the kitchen on fire again, so I’m not doing it for your sake. C’mon, let’s get to work.”

Fuuka darted around the kitchen, cleaning everything as best she could while Shinjiro-senpai brought out a new package of beef strips. Her role, he made very clear, was to watch and do what he said while taking notes, and unless he stated otherwise, she wasn’t to touch anything. The orders were brusque, but his tone was lighter this time, and when she stayed out of his way and observed, he almost seemed to be enjoying himself. Not that he was humming to himself or even smiling like she’d seen from some of the workers at the restaurants, but he seemed much calmer as he moved and worked. Before she knew it, she’d looked up from her notes to see cut peppers and broccoli, thinly-diced carrots and quartered mushrooms next to a marinate bowl that smelled heavenly enough to make her stomach growl.

“No sampling until it’s done,” he told her as he cooked the accompanying rice. “And don't put too much sauce on it. Teriyaki's nice in small amounts but they can always put more on themselves."

Fuuka nodded, scribbling furiously in her notebook. "I understand."

He gave her a stare, but when her expression didn't change, he grunted and continued cooking the dish. A few minutes later, there was a pristine pot of rice next to a tray of beef strips with the bowl that contained the vegetables, lightly layered in sauce, beside it. "They can dish up themselves when they come back," he told her, handing her a plate of food while making one for himself. "That's how you do it. Don't get carried away next time."

“Thank you for everything, Senpai," she told him, pausing her note-taking to bow again. "I wouldn't have been able to do this without you.”

“I told you," he groused as he took off his apron, "I didn’t do it for you.” The garment was as clean as when it came of the hangar, showing almost no sign he'd worn it in the first place.

“I know, but this way Minato-kun will be able to have something to eat besides hospital food or leftovers when he gets back. That’s... That’s important to me,” she confessed with touch of whimsy.

Her towering teammate gave her a sideways glance. “Important? Why? Got a thing for the guy?”

Fuuka recoiled like he'd jabbed her with live jumper cables. “I– Of course not, Senpai! We're friends, and– You can’t just ask a girl that!”

“Akihiko and Junpei said he's pretty popular at school," Shinjiro-senpai continued without missing a stride. "But, whatever. You’re denying it pretty fast, aren't you?”

“No, I... that's... it’s not like that. Minato-kun risked his life for me in the alleys," she told him with a shiver, hugging herself when she remembered the terror and the closed-in walls, the blood and the terrible wounds. "He’s helped me ever since I became part of the group, and after what happened... When I saw his arms... I just want to show him that I appreciate what he did for me. Even just a little. First I thought I'd buy him something, but he's pretty independent, or he just gets what he wants himself, so this is the best that I can do.”

He was quiet for a few moments before shrugging. “Well, he'll appreciate this. Because hospital food is pretty disgusting."

"He'll appreciate what you did, you mean," she corrected with a wan smile. "I just caused a mess."

"Tell him you made it," Shinjiro-senpai told her with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It's easier than trying to make it all on your own, right?"

"I can't do that!" Fuuka protested, aghast. "You did such a wonderful job with this!"

"It's fine," was his short answer. "Don't worry about it."

"But, Senpai, I−"

"Alright, whatever. Just stop shouting," he told her, picking up his plate of food and taking it to the dining room to eat alone.

Fuuka scratched her cheek, unsure how she would handle the reticent and intimidating dorm mate, but she took a small serving for herself and hoped that, even if she wasn't the one who made the food, the others would like it.

As it turned out, the sight of food was welcomed by everyone. Junpei-kun politely let their leader take his share before diving into the meal, and Mitsuru-senpai smiled when she began eating from her place at the table. Both Minato-kun and Junpei-kun showered Fuuka with praise, and whenever she tried to say that it had been Shinjiro-senpai who'd done the work, she got a stare from where he was sitting across the room that was dangerous enough to clamp her mouth shut. Only Akihiko-senpai seemed to notice something different about the dishes, and gave Shinjiro-senpai a look that made the quiet teen turn away.

Minato finished off his plate first, going back for seconds and relishing in the taste of real food instead of a drip line and bland, processed paste, but he moved and ate carefully, not wanting to reveal how sensitive his hands still were. His recovery was regular for a Persona-User, the doctors had told him, and his nerves were sore and itchy as the injuries healed into thin, spider-web scars up and down his hands and arms. But he'd been gritting his teeth with every test and poke since he asked Mitsuru-senpai out to go to the festival, and he knew that if the doctors had any idea how much he still hurt, he'd still be admitted and he would've lost his chance.

It was the first time that he'd ever bucked the rules when it came to medical recommendations, but he needed to prepare for his first date with Mitsuru-senpai, and the first real date he'd been on in as long as he could remember. He'd gone to festivals and parties with classmates before, even if he never got too much into the dancing and drinking, but this was different. As well as he thought he knew her this was new territory for him and Mitsuru-senpai, and while he could admit now that he wanted to be more than comrades with her, getting to that point was, he knew, the real challenge.

"Are you alright?" Mitsuru-senpai asked, appearing at his side and jolting him out of his thoughts like he'd conjured her from the ether.

Minato started a bit, then smiled reassuringly. "Never better, Senpai. Why do you ask?"

"They discharged you earlier than I was expecting," she noted, leaning against the table where he was eating his lunch. "Given what happened, I'm surprised by how much you've recovered."

"I'm still a bit sore," he admitted. Better to let some truth get through than to try and lie completely, especially where she was concerned. "But I should be fine by the time we head to Tartarus again."

She nodded, a sober look to her face. "Or by the next full moon. We'll need everyone ready for that."

Minato nodded in what he hoped was assurance. "We will be."

"I'm glad you're doing better," she told him, slowing her words a little like she was picking them carefully. "It was... different while you were away."

A touch of warmth sparked in his chest. It was the first time in a long while that he'd had someone genuinely concerned about when he was around. At least someone who wasn't being paid to tell him that. "It's good to be back," he told her. "Those hospital beds are hard on the back."

She chuckled, her concern fading into amusement. "I'll make sure the doctors hear about it. Enjoy your meal, Arisato. Yamagishi worked hard at it."

"She did," Minato agreed. "But, Senpai? One more thing."

"Yes?"

"Could... when I'm back to normal, I was wondering if we could have that rematch."

What... what was he saying? He'd meant to thank her, but... well, he had been going over their last duel and practicing to beat her next time, but...

Mitsuru-senpai blinked a few times before understanding sparked in her eyes.

Junpei looked up from inhaling his food nearby, his grin shifting and broken as he kept chewing. "Challenging our senpai? You just got out of the hospital, dude. You in a hurry to go back?"

"I've learned a few things since then," Minato assured them both, finding his centre and trying to sound as confident as he could. "No time like the present, right?"

"You're serious," she commented, her eyes narrowing a little." Iori's right; isn't this a little early to be thinking about a fight?"

"It wouldn't be any time in the next week," Minato assured her. "But I'd like it if we could set some time aside. It's been bugging me, how easily you got me before."

That had the desired effect – a proud smile spread on her face before she could stop it, and she lifted her chin at the challenge. "I see. If you are that determined, then I accept. Make sure you're fit for a fight by then, and we will make the arrangements."

"Thanks, Senpai," he said, getting up to bow. "I appreciate the opportunity."

"Of course," she replied, her smile telling him she thought he was crazy. "If there's nothing else?"

"That's everything. Thanks again."

She nodded and returned to her place on the couch, picking up one of her textbooks. She didn't turn toward him or shoot him any looks, but Minato was pretty sure she was smiling a little more now.

Behind her, Junpei gave him a grin and a wink that was as good as a thumbs-up before he went back to his food.

Minato raised a hand in acknowledgement before letting out a breath that shook a little. That was weird. He hadn't meant to challenge her this soon, and he was shaking a bit at the adrenaline she triggered in him. This on top of his impending date with the very same girl. He needed an edge. He needed information. The festival was only two days away and he wanted to make sure that he had all his bases covered, which meant to talking to their most recent addition. Stop being a baby and just throw the dice. "Shinjiro-senpai," he began. "Akihiko-senpai. Could we talk upstairs?"

Akihiko-senpai nodded while Shinjiro-senpai looked up from where Koromaru was sniffing around his feet, giving a hard stare before reluctantly rising and following when Minato didn't back down.

"What is it?" Akihiko-senpai asked when they were by the window at the end of the hall, just outside Minato's room.

Best to start off professional and keep it relevant, Minato knew. Akihiko-senpai was easy enough to talk to, but the team's newest member would take some work to get to know. "Regarding our nighttime operations, is there anything that needs to change? You two fought together in the past, so can you offer any ideas on how we can improve?"

Akihiko-senpai nodded in understanding before looking at his friend. "How about it? You're good to fight, right?"

"I can look after myself," Shinjiro-senpai told him shortly, closest to the stairs and obviously wanting to be somewhere else. "And I'll fit in with the others when I need to. Don't worry about it."

Minato glanced at Akihiko-senpai, who nodded, then looked back to their newest member. "I understand, but the others would need to get used to you. Yukari and Aigis and Junpei fight differently from what you might be used to, and we need to be ready as a team, not all doing our own thing."

"Junpei could use a practice partner," Akihiko-senpai suggested. "The way he fights is pretty similar to you, and he could benefit from having a proper instructor."

Narrow eyes went cold before he snorted. "Teaching? Are you serious? He doesn't need it. If he's gotten this far, he'll be fine on his own."

"We're in this together, Shinji," Akihiko-senpai told him with iron in his voice. "He's gotten by on what he knows, but none of us can coast as we are. You're in a position to help him and the rest of us, and that's how it is."

Shinjiro-senpai gave a low growl, gritting his teeth as the two locked stares for a few seconds before he let out an annoyed breath. "Fine, I'll talk to him. And Takeba too, if she's going to be covering us."

"I'd appreciate it," Minato told him, catching the tension between the two and unsure how serious Shinjiro-senpai was about it, especially since Akihiko-senpai returned to his usual calm stare. It was strange, but Minato shrugged it off. He was curious, but his senpai's business had nothing to do with him until it did. "Next, do you think that Ken is ready to fight?"

Shinjiro-senpai grimaced and looked away. What was with that reaction? Minato wondered. Did he not like kids?

"He's steady," Akihiko-senpai reported. "He handled himself pretty well before. He could do with some training, but he's strong enough to be part of the team next time we head out."

Minato nodded. He still didn't like the idea of someone that young fighting with them, but if that night had shown him anything, it was that they needed allies to fill the gaps when things went sideways.

"Speaking of the operations and Tartarus," Shinjiro-senpai remarked, turning to face Minato square-on, "I have a few questions. I hear you're leading the team now, but Mitsuru usually handles that. What's changed?"

"She's still in charge overall," Akihiko-senpai replied. "Arisato handles the combat situations, and so far it's been going well for us."

Shinjiro-senpai gave the shorter student a direct stare, like he was sizing him up. "That's unusual, especially given how much overhead she had back then. Why the change? What makes you so special?"

Minato's eye narrowed and he gave a dry little smile. "I'm actually not that special. You know how I found this place? I was looking for some batteries and thought it was a shopping mall, but Yukari pulled her Evoker on me and they made me the boss when I didn't run for cover. Seemed like an easy job when they gave me the brochure, and I needed the money, you know?"

Shinjiro-senpai's lips turned up in a dry smirk. "That's funny. You're a funny guy. How long have you been in charge?"

"Long enough to have a flying puddle of claws try to take my face off," Minato noted. "So, honestly? About two weeks."

"You're doing better than I did," Shinjiro-senpai told him, his smirk becoming a cold, teeth-baring grin. "I had a living closet try to eat me the second time I used my Evoker."

"Were you fighting on a moving train at the time?"

"A furniture store, actually. An entire department came to life and tried to rip us apart, and that was before we got where they kept the saw blades and the nails and screws."

"That'll do, you two," Akihiko-senpai told them, a stern look offset by an upturn to his lips.

Minato shrugged. "Alright, since I got here in April."

"She put some puppy in charge?" the punk snorted, looking at his friend as his humour dried up. "The newest guy she could find? I get that she was hard up, but that's scraping the bottom of the barrel."

Minato's hackles rose a little, and he could feel the same from Akihiko-senpai. "You weren't here to help us out, Shinji," the boxer told his friend shortly. "And you don't know what we went through. Arisato was a strange choice at the time, but he's worked out better than we could have hoped."

Shinjiro-senpai stared for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, she knows what she's doing if you haven't gotten anyone killed yet, so you must be lucky enough if you're still here."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Minato replied with a smile. "I really mean that. Could I get that in writing? Something pretty and formal that I can frame in my room?"

"Would a broken cinderblock do trick?"

"That's too bulky," Minato noted, "and it would look weird if I carried it to a job interview."

"Then no, you can't." Shinjiro-senpai turned to leave, glancing back over his shoulder. "Is there anything else?"

Minato raised a hand, his smile settling down to a straight line."There is, actually, since you two are here. It's on a bit more of a personal note."

Akihiko-senpai tilted his head in curiosity, his ire with his friend pushed aside for the moment. "Both of us? What do you need?"

"I don't do personal," the other teen groused with a darkening look. "Go talk to the girls if you need some help with your feelings."

"I'm curious about Mitsuru-senpai," Minato admitted, ignoring Shinjiro-senpai's bait. "We have a little tradition that started a while ago that involves us going out for lunch sometimes, and she was wearing a t-shirt last time and said that it was because she lost a bet. I feel like you two might know about it. What was the bet and how did it happen?"

"Seriously?" Shinjiro-senpai snorted in surprise. "You want to know that?"

"Yes, I do."

"Wait," Akihiko-senpai commented, a look of recognition in his eyes. "Was it that Ajisen Ramen shirt? Bright yellow with a logo on it?"

"That's the one," Minato confirmed.

"A lot of what Mitsuru keep to herself has nothing to do with us," Shinjiro-senpai told him brusquely. "She keeps a lot to herself because she's in an important position here, and that means that a lot of that shit that should come down on us ends up somewhere else. Honestly, why do you want to know more about her? It won't help when we're in the field."

"I'm her secretary at school," Minato pointed out. "She had some questions that can't be answered in one or two words, and it's my job to help her out when she wants to know something."

Shinjiro-senpai's stare sharpened, and he turned to fully address the shorter student. "No, it isn't," he replied slowly, a canny understanding growing in his eyes. "Your job is to do paperwork and free up her schedule from the small stuff. And if you're the team leader here, then her personal life doesn't factor in, either. So why do you really want to know?"

"Shinji," Akihiko-senpai began, taking a step forward. "Go easy on–"

Shinjiro-senpai held up a hand, his upraised forefinger commanding silence. "I'm curious why you want to know, Arisato," he continued, stepping up to the team leader. "Why do you care so much?"

Minato looked him in the eye, not budging on the matter. "Because she's asked me to help her learn new things," he explained, "and if I know more about her, then I can help her in ways I wouldn't be able to otherwise."

"So it's all work for you," Shinjiro-senpai noted, his eyes showing that he didn't believe it. "Nothing personal to it. Just you doing your job, huh? Then why ask her for that rematch? There are other people you can spar with, out in town if not at school."

Minato swore at himself. He hadn't expected to get cornered like this, especially not when the only thing that he could do at this point was either admit that the resident redhead was more than a friend or a senpai to him, or lie and say that she was just his boss. And he wasn't about to do either. "That's my business, Senpai," he replied after a moment. "I'd like your help if I can get it."

"Asking about her gets people into trouble," Shinjiro-senpai noted. "Mostly because they get in her way. They think they can help her and they end up pushing her when it's really none of their business what she does or how she is. If you're smart, you'll keep things on the level."

"Thanks for the advice," Minato replied, his tine hardening, "but I'd like an answer to my question. What is the history behind that shirt?"

"It's a shirt," was the answer, accompanied by a shrug. "What makes you think there's any history behind it? Maybe she has a thing for ramen shirts and you just don't know about it."

Minato twitched. Their newest addition had just beaten him at his own game, showing he knew the truth while treating it like a worm on a hook. And while Minato could admit to being attracted to Mitsuru-senpai, he wasn't about to say it to anyone else. "An answer, Senpai?"

"Akihiko was there, so he can tell you." Shinjiro-senpai turned back towards the stairs and headed toward them without excusing himself or waiting for a response.

"Hold on, Shinji," Akihiko-senpai called after him. "If I'm telling him about the shirt, you have to pitch in on something different."

That got a growl and a glare from him. "Whose side are you on here, Aki?"

"Cut the crap," the boxer shot back. "It's not about sides, so just answer the question."

"...Al-right," Shinjiro-senpai spat out in a long, frustrated exhale. "She has a sword collection and rides a motorcycle that costs more than an upscale apartment."

"I've seen it already," Minato informed him. "She showed it to us a few times when we were starting out in April, and last time we went out, she let me ride it with her."

Evidently that was a big deal, because Shinjiro-senpai blinked and gave him another calculating stare. "Ride on it? You." He snorted in obvious disbelief. "Yeah, funny guy, keep it up."

Minato smirked to himself. Let Shinjiro-senpai believe what he wanted; that way Minato could keep what she looked like in her leathers to himself. "Anyway, I already know about that. What else is there?"

The delinquent's eyes narrowed a bit as he frowned. "Do you know what her Evoker says? The three of us have inscriptions on them, and it seems like you guys do too."

Minato perked up a bit. He hadn't forgotten about that, and he was still looking for a way to ask her. "I've asked about it, but she hasn't told me."

"Shinji..." Akihiko-senpai warned.

"I know. I wasn't going to say anything. That's for her to do, I was just curious."

Minato knew it was a special topic for her, but his curiosity wouldn't let him keep his mouth shut. "Is there something I should know?"

"Just that it's personal to her," Shinjiro-senpai dismissed with a shrug and a bored look on his face. "Ikutsuki came up with phrases that seem to symbolize us or something, but she had someone else engrave hers. It was special to her, so she's different from us in that sense."

"I see." Minato didn't, and he was no closer to an answer than he was before, but he would let it slide for now.

Shinjiro-senpai turned toward the stairs again. "Well, that's enough on that."

"Actually, no it isn't," Minato corrected him firmly. "You've only told me that her Evoker's a personal topic, but I got that after the first month of being here."

Rather than irritation or growing anger, the words got him a steady, analytical stare again. "Why do you want to know?"

Minato barely blinked, but he felt his features ice over. He knew that his humour wasn't going to work this time, so he decided to change tactics. "I already told you that: she asked for my help with something and this gives me more perspective."

Shinjiro-senpai wasn't buying the evasion if his growing smirk was any indication. "But why do you really want to know?"

"You think there's more to it than that?"

Akihiko-senpai let out a disgusted sigh. "Just answer the question, Shinji."

The tall teen stared for a long few moments, his mind's gears turning for a few seconds before he gave an audibly annoyed sigh. "Fine. Something about her that's personal and not too private. Mitsuru's got a soft spot for glass art. Not the expensive crystal stuff, but glass pieces like what you see in gift shops and tourist traps. For some reason, she spent a lot of time looking into stores like that when she had free time."

Minato blinked. Glass art? Statuettes of pets and people? That was... Well, he never would have guessed it. She seemed the sort to like crystal decorations, or maybe a classy addition to her sword. But then, he reminded himself, this was the same girl who asked him to take her to fast-food restaurants while wearing a bikini that made her look better than the models in those pin-up magazines that Junpei kept bringing home, and she did it without a hint of reservation. Liking girly little baubles like that was actually, when he thought about it, pretty normal.

"So it's like that, is it?" Shinjiro-senpai's question was accompanied by a knowing look in those hard, dark eyes.

Minato blinked, testing the waters before he gave anything away. "What's like that?"

"Why you're interested," the teen elaborated with a satisfied tone. "Why you're asking these questions."

Any denial he came up with would have been seen immediately. Minato didn't like how Shinjiro-senpai had seen this much into him, but he wasn't going to insult Mitsuru-senpai by lying. "It might be, yeah." Minato shivered a bit at the implications in those words, fully accepting that he was going forward with this and that it was too late to back out now.

Shinjiro-senpai seemed to have picked up on some of that, and appeared satisfied without digging any deeper. "...Hmph. Well, whatever. I'm done." He turned and walked away, his stride making it clear that he wasn't going to stop this time.

Akihiko-senpai shook his head and gave a small sigh. "That guy..." he murmured as he watched his friend.

Minato turned to Gekkoukan's star boxer, all the more curious and glad that his feelings weren't being exposed as much. "What's the story behind the t-shirt, Senpai?"

Akihiko-senpai chuckled, walking over to the wall to turn around and lean against it. "It's old history," he began. "Back when we started working with Mitsuru, we had a lot of differences to work out. She's rich and grew up around board directors and business managers, and the two of us were pretty average. Even then, Shinji was pretty hard to get to know, and she knew less about how normal people lived than she does now. The divide in our backgrounds made it hard, but she always tried to make things easier for us, and spared no expense to make us comfortable. One night, she took us out to this restaurant she liked as a way to break the ice, and Shinji had a few things to say about the serving sizes and the food in general."

Minato blinked, trying to associate Shinjiro-senpai with picky eating and feeling like he was dividing by zero. "Is he that picky?"

"Not picky, really. Just that he knew food even back then, and could cook better with less than most cooks I know can make with whatever they want." The older teen chucked and leaned closer. "He'll never admit this, but he learned to cook because the orphanage we lived at didn't have a lot of food to offer us. We'd go out and get what we could from vendors or begging on the streets, then he'd make the best meals he could to keep everyone fed and warm. We could never get much, but he always made it work. The other kids loved him for it, especially the younger ones. Anyway, he and Mitsuru got into an argument over it because he felt like the price she paid for us to eat there was too high, and she felt like he was blowing her off for being nice. She told him that if he could do it better, then she wanted to see it. And because she was pretty headstrong back then, she said she'd make the same menu dishes we'd had and see what he could do."

Minato knew that Akihiko-senpai had been orphaned at a young age, but it was strange to hear him talk about it. Even more so because hearing about the three when they were younger was oddly surreal, especially because it all sounded so normal. "Wait... so Mitsuru-senpai challenged Shinjiro-senpai to a cooking contest because he talked badly about her favourite restaurant?"

"Exactly," Akihiko-senpai chuckled. "She had the bit in her teeth and wouldn't listen to me when I tried to warn her. Shinji was the same, and I had to be the judge of the food they were making, but I felt like it would be a good learning experience for everyone if we made a wager."

It was starting to come together, and she didn't seem particularly ashamed when he saw her wearing it so the memories must have been fond ones. Or became that way with age and experience. "She had to wear the shirt a few times every year if she lost, right?"

"We thought she'd back out when we came up with the idea," Akihiko-senpai admitted. "Mitsuru wasn't a t-shirt kind of girl back then, and almost everyone would say that she isn't even now. Didn't even slow her down though, and she put a lot of time and effort into trying to beat him. You should have heard some of their arguments back then."

Minato truly wished that he had. "Why is that?"

"Shinji picked out the shirt because he wanted her to wear something that had the advertising for what he called a "proper restaurant with decent food" on it." The boxer laughed at Minato's disbelieving expression. "I'm not kidding; he really said that to her face. It fired her up to win even more. When he beat her, he offered to take her out to have some ramen, but she was a bit sour after losing and wouldn't budge."

The image of a blushing, angry, younger Mitsuru-senpai stomping her foot while her hands were set on her hips came to mind, and Minato chuckled at the thought. "She shot him down."

"Every single time," Akihiko-senpai confirmed, "and she was pretty loud about it. She'd yell, and she did yell instead of just tell us, that there was no way she'd try ramen since it couldn't have been as good as other food."

Minato shook his head. That didn't sound like Mitsuru-senpai at all, but it left him feeling honestly envious that he'd never had the chance to see her with so much youthful fire. "She's sure changed then. If you made the wager, then what did she want in return?"

The boxer chuckled, covering his mouth with a hand. "That was the hardest part of the contest, actually. First she suggested something menial like sharpening her sword collection or washing her motorcycle for a month, but we were trying to keep things friendly, so she said we had to buy her some of the glass art pieces she was looking for. She wanted two pieces from each of us."

Minato nodded in understanding. "That's why Shinjiro-senpai knows about them."

"The fact that you saw her wearing the t-shirt should tell you who won the contest," Akihiko-senpai finished. "Mitsuru did a hell of a job and studied the recipes for days, but she was working from a set of numbers and measurements the whole time. Shinji only uses recipes until he's memorized them, then he makes his own changes and operates on instinct."

Minato nodded to himself. That sounded like Mitsuru-senpai, doing her homework on something before trying it, but missing a step if it wasn't in the book somewhere. Shinjiro-senpai on the other hand... "That sounds pretty deep when you put it in that kind of context. I wouldn't think he'd be that into cooking, or have such an intuitive way of doing it."

"Everyone says that," Akihiko-senpai commented. "They see a big guy with long hair and think they have him pegged, and he's never bothered to take the time to prove them wrong. I'm working with him, but he's pretty stubborn."

There was a hint of something in the teen's voice, and Minato tilted his head and followed his intuition. "You respect him a lot, don't you Senpai?"

Akihiko-senpai chuckled. "It's more than that, but we've talked enough about this. Did you get your answers?"

It seemed the time for personal talks had hit its expiration point. "I did. Thanks for the help," Minato told him with a bow.

"Any time." The boxer gave him a direct stare, glancing down at his hands. "You're feeling better? They released you earlier than I expected."

"I'm fine," Minato assured him, working to keep his expression level. "Ready for whatever they throw at us next."

That earned him an even longer stare, then a shrug. "Well, take it easy. If we run into those guys again, we'll all need to be ready."

No kidding. Minato was still having trouble sleeping at the thought of that flayed Persona hanging in mid-air. "I agree."

Akihiko-senpai took a deep breath before pushing off the wall. "I'm going to go and see if there's any food left. And make sure Junpei doesn't get too carried away if he hasn't heard the news yet; Shinji doesn't spar much, so he might not hold back."

"I look forward to working with him." Minato was being serious. Despite the older teen's rough edges and cold demeanor, it was becoming clear that there was a lot going on under the surface, and a lot less of it was bad than he showed.

"Yeah." There was a wistful tone in Akihiko-senpai's voice. "And I think he needs this. I'd appreciate it if you could help him if he needs it, or if I can't be there."

"Of course, Senpai. I'll do what I can."

"Thanks, and good luck with everything."

Minato nodded his thanks as Akihiko-senpai headed downstairs, then turned to the window and stared outside as he went through everything he'd learned. Mitsuru-senpai in a cooking contest? He remembered the pictures on Kirijo-san's desk back in Yakushima and how one of them showed her with her hair in pigtails. Minato pictured her like that, probably in an apron as she worked around the kitchen, her brow furrowed as she got into a small pout while she concentrated on whatever was in front of her.

He smiled, stroking his cheek with a thumb and brushing against his upturned lips. A mystery indeed, but now he had something to go on for the festival. He just had to make sure his fledgling plans went off without a hitch, a thought that made him wince when his fingers bumped against his cheekbone and send cold, sharp needles of pain running through his hands and forearms. He also had to focus on healing properly and not tipping anyone off to how much they still hurt. Minato started toward the stairs, chuckling at the enthusiastic "HELL YEAH!!" from Junpei in the lobby, making his plans and preparing contingencies for the upcoming festival as meticulously as he would if he was gearing up to fight a Shadow.

 

* * *

 

Planning for the event, however, only got one so far. Real life and the human element had plenty of ways of throwing a wrench in the works with the delicacy of a curb stomp when they wanted to.

Perhaps that was a bit much, Minato thought as he threaded his fingers together, hissing at the dull pain and resisting the urge to adjust his sash again. Junpei, Akihiko-senpai, Shinjiro-senpai and Ken were talking nearby, every now and again giving him an amused look, particularly since they were dressed in their normal summer clothes while Minato had opted to wear a yukata with curving white lines across the indigo fabric. When he thought of the ramifications of being the one to ask the girl out, he decided to dig into his closet and dress up for the occasion. He hadn't had much inclination to wear it before, but he had to admit that he didn't feel as stupid in it as he thought he might. He was even doing much better in his geta compared to the first time he'd tried wearing them, and he didn't feel quite as short now.

"Seriously Senpai, you have to do something with your fans over there," Junpei was saying to the silver-haired boxer, nodding at a group of schoolgirls, all around their age, who were whispering and pointing and waving when they got the chance.

Akihiko-senpai sighed and shook his head. "I told you before, I don't even know them. What am I supposed to do with a girl if I can't even remember her name?"

"They'd probably find it pretty sexy, Senpai," Minato told him with a smile. "The girls at school haven't stopped talking about you since the semester started."

"The same could be said about you," came the reply with a raised eyebrow. "Out of all of us, you're the most likely to get the stares, don't you think?"

"Most of the guys in my grade still hate me," Minato pointed out with a dry smile. " I've given up on keeping my shoes at school these days, and no girl's going to make herself a target like that. Especially not when they think I'm going out with Mitsuru-senpai and Yukari at the same time."

"You never know," Shinjiro-senpai noted with a smirk. "Some women like the competition. Maybe there'll be a challenge over you after tonight."

"I'll take your word for it on that one, Senpai," Minato said, glad for the distraction. Exchanging banter was a good way to keep his nerves under control. He thought of the more memorable festivals he'd gone to when he was younger, particularly the ones 'Nako had taken him to when their parents were working. The games, the food, the way she'd run along the stalls, and–

He frowned, narrowing his eyes. Something was off with the memory. He could see Minako with her wavy auburn hair in braids easily enough, and he remembered her running along the stalls with candy apples and yakitori sticks and turning to him in mid-stride to call him over, but he couldn't feel her happiness like he'd been able to before. He could remember her calling him, the enormous smile on her face and the sparrow-themed yukata she was wearing, but... why did she feel so far away? Why did the vendors waver like a reflection on a lake, while the music he knew by heart was muffled as though he was drowning in the lake in question? The details of the memory flattened when he focused on them, like a distorted photo tilted at the wrong angle.

He shook his head, trying to get past the smooth, cold feeling on his mind, like he was watching the scene while on the other side of soundproof glass. It wasn't right, he knew, and he gritted his teeth when the thought of someone or something toying with his mind. The Shadow in the love hotel had been enough, but this felt... different. His head was clear instead of cloudy, but where was it coming from?

"And we're not going on a mission to pick up girls this time," Akihiko was saying to Junpei when Minato came out of his reverie. "Once was enough and that last one... That's not happening again."

"I gotcha, Senpai. No worries about that," Junpei assured them.

Akihiko-senpai looked skeptical. Understandably so. "...Okay, now I'm worried. What have you got in mind now?"

"Nothing." Junpei held up a hand when the look continued. "Honestly, nothing. I wasn't planning on it."

Minato stepped a little closer, intrigued by the conversation. He'd also been expecting that someone would need to rein Junpei in at some point this evening, so to learn that it wouldn't be necessary was a surprise. "That's unexpected. Mind if I ask why?"

"That's... Well, that's personal. A gentleman never tells, you know?" Junpei sounded smooth for the most part, but there was a blush on his cheeks that spoke for him.

Minato blinked before a smile turned his lips up a bit. "I see. I'm glad."

Ken looked between them, clearly confused, Akihiko-senpai's stare got harder, the details having slipped past him, and Shinjiro-senpai grunted in a tone that sounded like a chuckle. Junpei scratched the back of his neck, laughing a bit nervously as the silence drew out.

"Sorry for the wait!" they heard Fuuka call.

Minato took a bracing breath, trying to calm his heart down after it lurched in his chest and his pulse began to race.

"We had to make sure that everything was alright with Aigis," Yukari added. "This was too good a chance to pass up for her to get out and mingle, you know?"

Minato went over everything he'd planned before turning to face the girls as they arrived. The memory and the strangeness were definitely troubling, but they were things he'd need to talk to Igor and Elizabeth about the next time he saw them. Right now, he had something more pressing to focus on.

Yukari was at the forefront in a checkered white and pink yukata with flower patterns and a yellow obi. To no surprise, her hair looked freshly washed and her neck was graced with her trademark heart choker. "Thanks for waiting, everyone. It took a bit– Whoa, Minato-kun, you look good like that! Is that new?"

Minato smiled as best he could while pushing down the butterflies in his stomach. He stepped forward to greet them, his geta clicking against the cobblestones and slapping against the soles and heels of his bare feet. "You do too, Yukari. But this is just something I picked up a while back."

"But the colour works with your hair," Fuuka insisted as she stepped forward in her yukata, blue with sunflower designs across the fabric. "I wouldn't be able to wear something that dark, but you really pull it off well. Did you pick it out yourself?"

"Sort of," he admitted, trying to find his stride amidst the rising nervousness. "My sister always pushed me to get yukata in this colour whenever we went out, so it seemed like the obvious decision to make."

"If the intent of your attire is camouflage," Aigis began, wearing a blue yukata with flowers embroidered across the front and sleeves that made her look surprisingly normal, "then I must say, respectfully, that it doesn't succeed in its intended purpose. You are distinctive in those clothes, Minato-san, when compared to the others I have seen so far. I predict an 18% probability of blending in with such clothes."

"They're decorative," Yukari chuckled, "like the masks that the stalls will be handing out. We're not here to work, remember?"

"Hey, Yuka-tan!" Junpei called as he approached with the others. "Glad you could make it. Isn't this too early for 'fashionably late'?"

Yukari rolled her eyes but had a friendly smile on her face when she saw the other guys. "Yeah, thanks Junpei. I didn't think you'd dress up."

Their comrade shrugged with a grin, any signs of his previous unease nowhere in sight. "Nah, we decided to let the boss stand out and look his best. I wouldn't want to steal his thunder."

"That's generous of you," Mitsuru-senpai told him from behind the girls, stepping forward to the middle of the group.

Minato blinked and, in a second, felt so light that he could have been pushed over with a light sneeze.

Mitsuru-senpai had opted for a cream-coloured yukata, decorated with lilacs, and the light shades set off the pine-green of her obi, and rather than her usual boots, she was wearing light pine geta with white straps embroidered with lavender thread. Minato stared, unknowing and uncaring how it might have been see as impolite, because he'd never have guessed that Kirijo Mitsuru had such cute feet. Foregoing the customary thick socks, probably on account of the temperature, Mitsuru-senpai was wearing her geta barefoot, and, completely against his expectations, her toenails were even painted a matching lavender to the lilacs on her yukata.

"I agree with Takeba and Yamagishi, Arisato," she continued, sounding a bit softer than usual. "You look quite handsome like that."

Shaking himself out of his trance, Minato looked up to face her, about to return the greeting, and froze again. Her hair, so often covering one side of her face like a mirror to his own, was back and tied up into a bun with a few stray locks falling down along her cheeks. The hairpin holding it all together was, no surprise now, in the shape of a finely made lavender flower with petals on thin chains swaying in the evening wind. She was even wearing lipstick, he noted with growing disbelief: a bright, distinct red that suited her fair skin perfectly and made her lips look like a little ruby bow. A breeze passed them and brought her perfume to his senses, both her usual cinnamon and spice with something more lively but still understated. Everything before him blended together to create an image that made her seem like a completely different person from the executive's daughter he'd met when he'd arrived in April, or even from the team leader he'd stopped to talk to at the train station in May. "Th-thanks, Senpai," he replied, careful not to stutter or trip up too much. "You look really great too."

She smiled and blushed a bit, walking over to him with quieter click-slaps compared to him, making him think that everything about her was softer tonight. Which didn't, the logical side of his brain intervened almost accusingly, change the fact that she was still taller than he was.

"Well, since we're all here," Akihiko-senpai announced as he walked up, "it makes sense to have as much fun as we can. Games, food, anything goes. Anyone have any questions?"

Aigis raised her hand. "I have a number of inquiries regarding the purpose of the activities here. I hope that will not be a problem and hinder the others."

Yukari laughed cheerily and held a hand out to the stand with the animal masks. "We'll help you out with that. Let's go. We have to start somewhere, right?"

When she and Fuuka walked with Ken and Aigis in one direction, Junpei whistled and stepped back and forth, playing with Koromaru who barked happily, more energetic than usual on account of being back at his old home, and the two joined Akihiko-senpai and Shinjiro-senpai as they headed toward the ramen stand.

Minato steadied his breathing and cleared his throat. He was, after all, now alone with Mitsuru-senpai. "Well, what would you like to do, Senpai?"

She turned to him, her hands and arms close to her body. "I'm not sure. I haven't had the chance to attend a festival for the sake of enjoyment since my mother took me to one when I was quite young."

"Ah... right." Minato scratched his head, his palms going clammy as he felt the very first scene of the date starting on rocky feet. They were alone and he was realizing, with mounting horror, that he couldn't remember what he was going to do with her. Where were his plans? All those ideas he'd been reciting for the last two days? Why did they have to abandon him now?!

He looked at her when he felt her hand on his arm, her smile going from amused to assuring. "It's alright. Take your time. And this might be rather unfair of me, but since you asked me out, I'd like to do whatever you have in mind. I imagine you have been to more of these events than I have so I trust that you will make it a memorable night."

No pressure, Minato thought to himself, but with the expectations came a measure of comfort, not to mention the smile that spread his face at how much trust she was putting in him. Just like in the field. Like a mission where his objective was making her have as much fun as he could. Alright, he could do this. "I see. That will work nicely. Have you eaten yet? Fair food is always pretty good, and... now that I think about it, Senpai, you were busy with Student Council meetings today, weren't you? Did you have time to eat?"

She looked down for a moment and covered her stomach with her hands, blushing a little. Minato tilted his head to the side. Had her stomach started growling? He didn't hear anything. "I didn't... eat all of it, no," she admitted, looking a little abashed. "There were a number of concerns to address, and I wanted to make sure that they were all taken care of before I left school."

"I see." He tried to keep his face straight, but there was no suppressing the fierce surge of joy and satisfaction at her words. "I hope that you won't make a habit of it then," he continued, taking on his role as her assistant, if for only a moment.

She shook her head, the flower pin in her hair catching the light from the festival and reflecting it back at him. "I won't, but I wanted to... make sure that nothing interrupted us, and that meant completing everything today."

Her words made his heart skip a few times before he found his center and smiled to her. "Thanks for doing that, Senpai. If it's alright with you, that will be our first destination, and we can try the other food stalls as we go if you want. Fair food's kind of a style of its own, actually, so you can think of it as part of our lessons, if you want."

She chuckled lightly, her smile lighting up her face by a few degrees as the blushed died off a little. "Recreational and educational. I approve, Arisato-sensei."

Minato barked a quick laugh. "I don't think anyone will call me that for a while. But, shall we? There's an okonomiyaki stand just over there." He led her over to the stall, admiring her graceful steps and poise. "Excuse me," he told the chef behind the counter. "Two orders of Kansai-style okonomiyaki, please."

"Not a problem, youngster!" was the immediate, heavily accented reply. "How'd you and yer lady like em?"

Smiling at the familiar Osaka lingo, Minato turned to his date. "He's asking what you'd like on yours, Senpai. Anything that you see on the counter is an option."

The Kirijo heiress looked over the menu thoughtfully. "Hm... I understand that there will be sauce to go along with this? Regardless of what I choose?"

"That's right, missy! Best sauce on this side a' Osaka!"

In spite of the heavenly smells coming from the stall and how hungry she had to be, she tilted her head in curiosity. "What sorts of things would you recommend?"

"Well a'now, if yer feelin' adventurous, I kin recommend somethin' a mite hotter than yer standard local fare."

Minato's eyes widened a little. "You might want to be careful there, Senpai," he warned. "Some of the things they put in their sauces don't go well with spices."

One of her eyebrows raised alongside her curiosity. "Isn't that the point of experimenting, Arisato?"

"Not when you end up regretting it in the morning, no." He remembered with a grimace the first time he'd taken his sister up on trying to eat more spicy food than she could. Neither of them had been able to go to school for two days after that.

"Aww, she ain't got nothin' ta worry about!" the vendor assured them. "Here're th' spices I got in th' back, missy. Take a gander!"

"Hmm..." she mused. "I know that wasabi's on the hot side, but I've never heard of harissa before. And isn't sriracha supposed to be rather mild?"

"Ye'll never know until ye try, missy!"

She looked satisfied, prepared to take on the challenge. "Hmm... It would be an experience, wouldn't it? In that case–"

"Senpai," Minato interrupted soberly. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that."

The look of disbelief on her face was priceless, and hardened a bit when she registered what he'd just said to her. "I... You can't let me?"

"That's right," he told her without giving an inch. He knew he was pushing it, giving the Kirijo president's daughter orders, but he'd risk her wrath now instead of living with her misgivings the next morning. "Unless you're used to having the top of your mouth blown off, I very strongly suggest you try something milder. Or without any spices."

She looked at him, looking like she was about to argue, then she settled back with a small smile. "Are you exercising your right as my sensei in this matter?"

"If I have to, yes. I'd hate for you to regret it later, and that much spice is something I can very much see you regretting."

Mitsuru-senpai stared at him for a moment, weighing the odds in her eyes before she nodded. "I see. Then I'll trust your judgment in this. I'd like something with a strong flavour, though. What do you recommend?"

Minato went over the ingredients and decided on something that had some kick to it but wouldn't haunt her the next day. "In my case," he continued, "I'll have something mild. Salmon roe and seaweed with mayonnaise and extra ketchup, please."

"Comin' right up!"

"Mayonnaise and extra ketchup?" Mitsuru-senpai asked him, her tone conversational instead of direct. "That sounds a bit different."

"Minako's tastes wore off on me a bit," Minato chuckled, suppressing his unease about that unusual memory and enjoying the moment and the smells of their food being prepared. "She'd have the craziest things on her food, but whatever she got always tasted good. No one I knew then or know now has that gift."

"She brought you to festivals?"

He nodded. "All the time. I have no idea how she found the time between school and homework and all the friends she had, but every time there was a festival to go to, even if it was in the next town over, she made sure we went."

"She sounds like she was a wonderful person," his senpai told him with a wistful tone and a far-off look. "I've thought of what my life would have been like if I'd had a sister. Or a brother, when I think about it."

Minato decided to keep a few of the things 'Nako had done to him in their youth, things he'd never really forgiven her for, to himself. "You would have liked her, I think. She loved doing things with people and for them, even when she didn't have much to do directly with what was going on. Which reminds me, Senpai, I didn't know that you painted your toenails."

That got a small laugh out of her. "Ahh... I didn't. Takeba and Yamagishi found out about this and insisted that they help me with my clothes and preparations."

Minato chuckled, imagining how that must have gone. The girls had been enamoured with Mitsuru-senpai's swimsuit at Yakushima, so that they jumped in when she was going on a date was no surprise. "That sounds like them."

"It was unusual," she continued, "but I am grateful. Takeba found the perfect accessories to go along with my yukata and Yamagishi, well, I wasn't expecting her to know very much about painting nails, but she was very insistent that she get the shade just right."

"Was the lipstick her idea too? I've never seen you wear that colour before." She'd worn lipstick pretty regularly before, Minato knew, when she was holding meetings or meeting with officials and businessmen, otherwise she just wore lip gloss in class. This was different, however, and seeing her try something outside the norm was a welcome surprise.

"Yes," she chuckled, "and she wouldn't let me go until we found something she liked. She was very insistent."

"It suits you. I mean, you look really good." Not his smoothest line, but she seemed happy that he'd noticed the attention that had gone into her attire.

Her smile widened. "You said that already. But thank you. I don't feel like I get to do this often enough, and I'm having fun so far."

"Order's up! Here' ye go, young'uns!"

Minato paid the man and brought the food to her. He could smell the sauce and the kick that her order had, and indulged in his own dish.

He'd been worried, for a moment, about any food that she couldn't finish. Leftovers during a festival were a bit of a pain when they got to the toys and the games and started carrying their spoils around, so he was left wondering if Mitsuru-senpai would be able to handle her food.

His fears were proven unfounded four seconds later when, with a remarkable amount of dignity, she'd already wolfed down half her okonomiyaki. The way she ate was clean and precise, yet it was clear that going the day without food had made her more than ready for what the festival had to offer.

"Are you not hungry?" she asked when she was almost finished, noting his slower eating speed. Evidently, she was unaware of how cute a girl could look when she was dressed up and looked perfect while hovering over her food, lips back a bit to show her teeth.

"I like to pace myself and enjoy it," he replied with a smile, cursing at himself for getting caught. His hands were flaring up in pain and even holding his food was a trial. "Shall we try the masks next?" he continued, shifting the attention back to their date as he fought off the feeling of broken glass being jammed into his muscles and finished his food quickly. "They make good souvenirs."

Mitsuru-senpai nodded once she finished her okonomiyaki. "I'd like that. Lead on."

They went to the mask stall, hearing the cheerful barks of Koromaru and the laughing children running with him to play. Aside from that though, they didn't encounter any of the others, though Minato was sure that he saw Kenji talking to some older women by the offering box, and Yuko was dressed in her usual sports clothes and kneeling by the koi pond, a few chattering girls nearby who stopped talking and started staring when they saw him and Mitsuru-senpai together. Minato turned and ignored them, fervently pushing down the thoughts of what the rumour mill would be like when he went to class on Monday. "What is the custom with the masks, Arisato?" his date asked as they looked over the impressive selection. "Are they meant to ward away spirits?"

Minato shook his head. It made sense that she'd think that since she was looking at the tengu mask. "Not really. It's more of a thing that people do to make the night memorable. If there's one that you want to have, then that's what you get, and you can wear it to the next festival or get new ones each time."

"Memorable," she mused before looking at him. "So does that mean we will pick masks for each other? That seems like the best way to make the might worth remembering."

"I..." He faltered and stopped. He hadn't thought of that, but it was a far better idea than what he was going to go with. "Yeah," he told her a few seconds later. "We can do that if you want."

"I would like that. Which mask do you think suits me, Arisato?"

Minato smiled, becoming more and more convinced that she was doing this on purpose. Putting him in the lead, making him make the decisions, it was like she was testing him every step of the way and seeing how he would perform under pressure. And now she was asking for a token of what he thought of her. Smart girl, he thought with more than a hint of admiration. His competitive instincts kicked in, responding to the challenge she was ever-so-tacitly offering. "This one," he told her as he pointed.

She blinked at his choice. "Is that... a bird?"

"An owl, actually."

She tilted her head to the side, a wry smile curling her lips up at the corners. "Aside from the obvious association with wisdom, which is flattery no matter how you choose to look at it, how do I resemble an owl?"

"I hadn't thought about that angle. Honestly," he asserted when she gave him a skeptical look, "I hadn't. Owls fly at night when no one else is around, they can hear things that we can't, and in spite of how they look, they are the perfect hunters because they don't make any noise when they fly."

An eyebrow raised appraisingly. "Are you comparing me to a nocturnal predator?"

"Not in those words," he replied. "I was thinking that it would be more of a quiet protector, if you need a label, even if the ways that the bird works its magic aren't clearly understood at first glance."

Her eyes were laughing, but the smile on her face was genuine and warm, and a touch of a blush coloured her cheeks. "That's... thank you, Arisato. That's perfect."

Another check mark in the 'win' column. Minato inclined his head to stop from clearly grinning. "I'm glad you like it. Now, which one suits me? Do you need a minu–"

"This one," she told him, pointing.

He blinked, then nodded as he looked to see which one she meant. "That was fast. Which one... Is that a dog? Or a wolf?"

"A bit of both," she explained. "The seal on the forehead suggests that it's an inugami. Fierce, protective, loyal, and the strongest spirit that an onmyouji can summon."

He'd heard the stories, and remembered them when she told him. His mother had loved tales of the supernatural and adored trying to scare her children with them when they were young (He'd always handled it well while 'Nako had, more than once, crept into his bed with him because she was sure the monsters stayed away from him on those nights). Inugami were also typically loyal to one person. They imprinted on that individual and served them for life. Minato bowed to her, flattered. "I'm honoured, and I accept."

"As do I. Could you attach mine please?" She turned and presented her back to him, handing him the owl mask.

Minato was glad that the sharp pain that had hit his hands when they were eating had resided enough for him to handle the mask and its strings properly. But seeing her lovely hair and neck so close, offered just like when he was putting suntan lotion on her at Yakushima, made him sweat a little under the collar."There you go," he told her a few moments later, strings tied and secure with him touching her soft, supple skin only as necessary. Which didn't alter the fact that her perfume made him want to lean in for a closer, longer breath, or that she giggled a little when his fingers brushed her neck.

"Thank you. I'd hate to lose it." She sounded sincere when she said that. "Shall I attach yours?"

"Please." He turned and gave her the mask, smiling for a moment at the thought of how being taller than he was probably made this easier for her. When he felt her fingers skim across his skin, shivers raced down his spine and gathered at his knees and he had to remind himself to keep breathing. Maybe it was accidental, but part of him wondered if she was doing it on purpose.

"All done," she confirmed as she stepped back. "It looks good on you. Now, is there more to see?"

"Of course."

They went through the festival slowly, enjoying each attraction. There were plays that they sat in on to catch some of the local mythos, and raffles that Mitsuru-senpai tried four times until she got a cell-phone strap as a gift, that competitive look in her eye. The large roulette wheels proved lucrative when Minato won a coupon book for the local restaurants which he promised to put to good use as well as a fashionable drawstring purse that suited Mitsuru-senpai's kimono like they were cut from the same bolt of cloth. The way her eyes lit up when he gave it to her made him feel ten feet tall and rather proud of all the hours he'd spent playing gambling games during his lunch breaks. Finally, when they were heading for the fireworks display, set to start soon, they were called over by a vendor who had a shooting range set up.

"Give it a try! Win something for your lady there!" the vendor had told them.

Minato shook his head when he saw the targets. Shooting games had never been his specialty, and the best he could do was almost knock over one of the set-up cups after four shots.

"That looks fun," Mitsuru-senpai told him when he finished his turns with a wry smile. "If you don't mind, I'd like to try."

"Of course," he granted, handing the vendor several bills and stepping aside to let her shoot. And she was much better at it than he was after only a few shots to get her bearings. She came much closer to winning something by her fourth shot, and she turned with a raised eyebrow. "Might I impose on you? I almost have it."

She still had the bit in her teeth, especially when there was a chance she could win. It was, he noticed, quickly adding to her charm. Minato paid for another round without a word and stepped back to watch.

This time she bent forward and leaned on the wide counter of the stall, taking careful aim. Minato stepped back to give her room and stay out of her peripheral vision, turning to watch her line up her shots.

She shifted her weight a little for her first shot, and from where Minato was standing the motion brought his eyes down to her hindquarters, particularly between her waist and the tops of her thighs. He blinked and tried to look away respectfully, but she took a shot and shifted again, drawing his eyes to her beautiful, peach-shaped butt. Minato bit his tongue and couldn't keep his mind from feeding him memories of how it had looked when she'd been wearing jeans and chaps on her motorcycle. Or in a sarong at the beach. Or in a skirt when he saw her at school or at the dorm. He knew she never missed an exercise session, so the odds were good that she'd be toned and firm, just the right amount of resistance with some softness and give. She was also fuller in figure than the girls he knew, and when he compared them to her he couldn't help the thought that she was just the right size, with enough bounce and sway to her buns to be exactly what he liked. His hands twitched at the thought of how she'd feel, and cold pain bit into his nerves when his fingers clenched. He cleared his throat and looked at her face. Her face was nice and safe. Except that she chose that moment to reload her air rifle and settle down against the counter, shifting to take aim. And her generous chest, even covered from the layers of her kimono, pressed against the flat surface. It was a definitely first for him, that moment in time, because he'd never been jealous of a counter before. Now he couldn't suppress the feeling of envy at the chance to be that close to her bosom.

"It might be, yeah." Shinjiro-senpai had cornered him before, and there was no way that Minato could deny that Kirijo Mitsuru was getting to him and digging even deeper, and all she was doing was standing there having fun. Right there, a few feet away. Almost in arm's reach. How would she take it? Taking that step meant crossing the line between being friends and being more, and there were plenty of reasons why it would be a bad idea. For everything that came to mind, though, the desire to try was just as strong. No matter how much the idea scared him.

"Got it!" she exclaimed as her last shot hit the target she wanted, stepping back with a victorious grin on her face that made her look carefree and beautiful in a way Minato hadn't seen before. You're getting in deep, the analytical part of his psyche said, a sentiment echoed by a few of his colder, more rational Personas.

She's worth the risk, the other half told him without doubt or shame, and the rest of his Personas wholeheartedly agreed.

They were quieter than usual though. It seemed that they were happy to let him have this evening to himself. Or maybe they thought he had enough to deal with already.

"This is all we have left in that gift tier, miss," the vendor told her with a laugh. "You've got the eyes of a hawk to make those shots. Congratulations."

They both froze when he handed her a giant teddy bear, its brown fur with black, panda-like splotches running across it. "Um..." she began, a lovely blush on her cheeks. "That's... I wasn't expecting something so..."

Minato had never seen her so lost for words before.

She took a moment to collect herself. "That is, you don't have to take it if you don't want to. I recognize that, as a gift, it's rather unorthodox for someone of our age to have, and it should be the thought that counts rather than the item itself."

"Senpai," he told her with a raised finger. It was endearing to see her so nervous, to know that she cared about how he saw this evening, and he felt better about his growing feelings. He stepped over to the prize and carefully took it with his left arm. "I really appreciate this. This is one game I'm terrible at, so thank you for winning him for me. I already know where he's going." A bit awkwardly, but as smoothly as he could, he bowed in acceptance.

The vendor clicked his tongue against his teeth and whistled. "There's how you know a man's serious, miss: he's not afraid to take what you've won him, no matter what it is."

She looked a bit bewildered by the exchange, but a smile crept across her face, a little lopsided and silly but unmistakably genuine. "This has been a very educational evening," she commented, not losing that smile. "Thank you for accepting it, Arisato."

"It's an honour."

"If you kids want to see the fireworks," the vendor told them, "might want to get a good spot soon."

"Of course," she replied, more businesslike now. "Where would you suggest we go?"

The vendor gave them a knowing look. "It's not a place many people know about, but there're benches up the way there that let you see everything. Everyone picks the shrine steps, so the benches should be pretty clear."

"Thanks for the advice," Minato told the man. "Shall we go, Senpai?"

"Of course."

Junpei and Akihiko-senpai would have given him grief, Minato knew, if they saw him with his teddy bear. Just like Kenji and Kazushi. Bebe, though, would be thrilled if he found out, and would probably wax poetic on Japanese stitching methods or something. Regardless, it was worth the cold knives picking at his palm when he saw Mitsuru-senpai relax and genuinely smile when she looked at the teddy bear. They found the benches easily enough, and like the vendor said, there were several spots open with lots of room between them and the other visitors. "This will do," he said, finding room to set all his things down before taking a seat.

She did the same, a happy sigh on her lips as she sat next to him. "I haven't had the chance to see fireworks lately," she told him as she looked skyward. "I've been to celebrations and parties, of course, but it feels like this will be different."

"I hope you like it," he told her.

"I will," she assured him. "I've had a lot of fun tonight, Arisato. Thank you for bringing me here."

"It's been my pleasure, Senpai."

She folded her hands on top of her left leg, closest to him, and Minato looked down, butterflies in his throat. His hands twitched, wondering if he should take the step. His Personas, of course, voiced their opinions on the matter, and a few even sounded amused by where his mind was going.

The butterflies multiplied and he felt physically sick for a moment, breathing steadily to suppress the feeling, but he reached over to where her hands were...

"Arisato?" she asked, a bit quieter than he expected. "What are you doing?"

...and pulled her left hand up with his right, lightly closing his fingers. "This, Senpai."

She looked over at him and let out a short breath. "I assumed you would. That's how it happens in the books, isn't it?"

"Depends on the book, Senpai," he told her, pushing himself to go further even when the butterflies were multiplying in his stomach. "Sometimes it ends with a kiss."

Mitsuru-senpai nodded and blushed, the colour bewitching in the low light. "That's... I have heard of that as well, but I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

"Of course," he assured her as quickly as he could, almost tripping over himself, "and I wasn't suggesting it. That was a bad joke. I'm sorry."

"Do you think we could get that far?" she asked, not looking away from him. The colour in her cheeks was beginning to intensify. "When you consider how short a time we've known each other, not to mention the circumstances around you being here, doesn't it seem out of place?"

"I don't think we do anything by the numbers like normal people do, Senpai."

"How true." She cleared her throat a little. "Where... where do you see this going, Arisato?"

"I honestly don't know." He told her after taking a few seconds to steady himself. "A month ago, something like this seemed impossible. Now it's happening and I have no idea what I should do next. But if you're open to ideas, I think we should take it a day at a time. Then we can see how it develops and where it fits with everything else."

"That's a logical approach," she noted.

He took a stabilizing breath just then. "This also might be putting the cart before the horse, but they say that the best relationships come from the best friendships. I like to think that we are pretty good friends already, so... that's why it feels natural, at least to me."

Mitsuru-senpai chuckled a bit coarsely. "Natural to be around me? You're the first person to say that and really mean it, Arisato."

"It's the truth," he told her with as much sincerity as he could find. "I've never met anyone like you before, Senpai, so I'd like to learn everything I can from you while I have the chance."

She sighed, but her hand shifted a bit against his until their palms touched. "I... I don't want you to think I'm against this idea," she began, slowly at first and gaining speed. "Tonight has been wonderful, like I said, and you've been there for me when I wouldn't have expected you to– I mean, anyone else to try." She cleared her throat a little and looked away, that lovely blush getting brighter. "I didn't mean you specifically. I just mean that most people wouldn't, and haven't, and... This is very different for me, and I don't know if I'll get it just right, so... I hope you can help me with this."

Mitsuru-senpai was babbling. Minato wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen and heard it himself, but she was truly and honestly trembling a little and talking a lot.

"I don't expect you to have experience in this anymore than I do," she continued, shifting on the bench a little and blinking rather fast when she looked at him, hands beginning to shake. "You haven't, at least not that I've heard, and I don't want to insult you by making that insinuation. Or that I've read up on you, because I only did it for SEES, and that's not you. Not in your character. I–I have no idea where to go from here, and it's not fair that I'm always asking you to show me things. You have better things to do with your time, and there are certainly books that I could read for reference. I–I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you that. Would that work better? They say that relationships are best when they are learned about together, but in a case like this, I feel like you'd be helping me too much, and–"

"Senpai," Minato interrupted her. Or tried to.

"–I know there are sources I can find," she continued like he hadn't said a word, her eyes a little unfocused. "There's the timing, of course, but you know that already. You think everything through, so you know this would have to work around SEES and everything else. Can I even ask you to do that? You know my schedule, Arisato, so do you think– No, I can't ask you to put so much into–"

Minato raised his free hand and held it up between them. He'd wanted to be suave like in the movies and put a finger on her lips, but that would mean messing up her lipstick. "Mitsuru-senpai," he said gently, stopping her and squeezing her hand while rubbing his thumb along the backs of her knuckles. "It's a lot to take in, and it's different for me too. We can take this slowly and figure it out as we go. We both have responsibilities to work around, but, again, we'll make it work and see where it goes." He lowered his hand when it was clear that she wasn't going to interrupt him. "And as to helping you out, I'd be honoured. This is pretty new to me too, so please give me your best regards." Joy rose in his heart when she squeezed his hand in return. Their hands were pressed tightly enough together that he could feel her pulse, racing almost as fast as his. "Thanks. I'm looking forward to it."

"I... I am too," she told him in a soft voice, a gentle look in her eyes and no sign of her rapid-fire words.

Just then the fireworks began, a flower garden of colours and fire screaming into the night sky and sending light across the shrine grounds. Mitsuru-senpai squeezed his hand firmly, then turned her wrist so that his hand was under hers, resting against their legs so that anyone who looked at them would have been hard-pressed to see them holding hands. "This isn't something anyone else needs to know about," she told him slowly, back in control of herself as she looked into his eyes when he questioned what the problem was. "If we're going to try it, then I'd like it to be ours alone. At least for now."

Damn. She'd put his feelings into words so well that he had to think of something else to say. "Of course, Senpai," he told her with a smile. "That sounds perfect."

"Also," she continued with a distinct blush on her cheeks, "if we are going to... progress along these lines, then I feel like you can be less formal when we are alone like this."

"Less formal?"

"You can call me by my name, Arisato. I won't take offense to it."

His mind blew a flywheel and stalled for a moment at what she was saying. She'd told him he could be more casual when he'd first moved into the dorm, but she was so... her that it had felt like a slight to only call her by her given name. It still did, when he thought about it. But if she was asking... "I'll try, Mitsuru," he told her softly, feeling a spark of pride at the smile she gave him in return. "You could do the same with me, you know. I wouldn't mind."

She pursed her lips in thought, mouthing his name silently before she shook her head and gave a light shrug. "I will try in the future, I think, but not yet if you don't mind. One step at a time, right?"

"Of course," he agreed. It would take some getting used to, but he had a feeling he was going to like learning from her.

Together, they looked up at the sky, shuffling a bit closer to each other until their legs were touching, and Minato smiled a calm, free smile. Of all the possible outcomes that he'd considered, this one was... pretty damn awesome. He'd been winging it since the shooting gallery, and was beyond glad that it had worked out as well as it had. "Thanks for everything, Senpai," he murmured, not sure if she could hear him but feeling the need to say it anyway.

"You're welcome, Arisato," she replied, shuffling a bit close and making him sweat with that perfume. "Thank you for such a memorable first date."

First date. His first date with Kirijo Mitsuru had been a success. Minato felt an adrenaline surge, resisted the need to stand up and shout in joy. Instead he squeezed her hand again, told her, "It was my pleasure," and concluded that, yes, this was one throw of the dice that had paid off big.

Neither of them looked down and to the side, or they would have seen Akihiko staring at them, a small, approving smile on his face.

"Aki," a familiar grunt sounded next to him. "What're you–"

Akihiko turned quickly, an outstretched hand silencing his friend while he held a finger to his lips.

"What're you doing? The others are looking for– Hm... Has that been going on long?"

"I'm not sure when it started, but it seems like more than a passing thing, doesn't it?"

"Kid's got balls," Shinji noted with what might have been acceptance, "I'll give him that. When was the last time anyone got that close to Mitsuru?"

"Hasn't happened before," Akihiko replied. "Not as far as I've heard. No one puts the effort in to get that far with her."

"You seem to know what's going on," Shinji commented, looking at his friend. "Was this part of your plan?"

Akihiko shrugged, an uncharacteristic smirk on his face.

It got him a hard snort and a shake of the head. "Seriously? You're playing matchmaker now? When did you get all sensitive and soft like this?"

"Give me a break," Akihiko shot back, quiet enough that the new couple didn't her him. "Arisato's a good guy, and he's gotten this far mostly on his own. He's gotten through to her, he talks to her and she trusts him. I didn't think she'd get this close with anyone, honestly. I have no idea how he did it, but in the light of this, I'm not going to get in the way."

"And that's important to you because...?" The words were drawn out with a hint of exasperation.

"You know why, Shinji," Akihiko told him with a stare. "She's put everything into SEES and she still feels responsible for everything her grandfather did. Her father does too, and from what I understand it's changed him. She's taking on the weight of everything that's happened, and she's never let us shoulder it with her. After all that, I think she deserves a chance at something happy."

Shinji sighed, his irritation and hardened facade bleeding off. "Yeah, I get you. She always seems so in control that it's easy to forget where she comes from. Do you think Arisato can do it? Think he needs a hand?"

"Like I said, he'd a pretty resourceful guy. I wouldn't have put money on him before, but now I can't think of anyone else who would get this far with her. Or do what he does as well as he does."

They both looked at the pair from the shadowed steps before Shinji grunted. "Well, how do you think the others are going to take it? I doubt those girls would keep quiet if they saw this. Junpei sure as hell won't, and they were looking for you earlier."

Akihiko nodded, stepping back toward the festival. "Let's go find them and keep them company then."

Anyone else would have expected Shinji to complain, but instead he nodded, turning to where the others were gathered after one last look at the pair up the hill. Akihiko joined him, a smile on his face when he saw how close they were sitting. Running interference for them wasn't so bad, especially if he could get Arisato to treat him to ramen next time they went running.

 

* * *

 

Chidori grimaced when she shook the translucent green pills into her hand. Not because of the taste – they were actually a bit sweet – but because she felt her cheek throb when she thought of pills in general. Her second step-father had been a vicious alcoholic and always needed sobering meds to do his job in the morning. Never mind his step-daughter, bruised and bloody and sometimes in too much pain to move to her room from where he’d left her on the floor. No, he’d pop his pills, usually dry, and go to work, suit straight and doused with cologne to cover the smell of booze, like nothing had happened.

She swallowed the suppressants with a generous dose of water and slipped the bottle back into a dress pocket, looking at her axes like she always did when the past came up.

“Do you have enough to last you?” Jin asked from his corner, the glare from his computer shining off his glasses. The half-eaten remains of his sandwich, the half he hadn’t given her, lay soggy and cold on the table. “We have more in the stash if you’re running low.”

“I’m alright,” she told him with a small smile. He’d asked her the same question a week ago, and her answer was the same. His concern, though he’d drop his laptop in a tub of water instead of calling it that, was always warming. “But thank you.”

Jin had already turned back to the screen, a distracted “mm hm” his only reply.

Chidori sat back on her bed, closing her eyes against the soft light their hideout. Takaya had asked for solitude since the fight in the alleys, and she could tell that he was already looking forward to their next encounter with SEES. He’d been in his room since then, sometimes talking to Hypnos loud enough for her to hear, and she knew better than to interfere.

It was unusual to see him so determined and lively, but she didn’t mind the change. She hadn’t minded when they’d been hunting students in the Dark Hour, either. Truth was, since they’d gotten away from the Kirijo Group and he’d shown her the path in life she was on now, she didn’t mind much of anything. She had everything she wanted and everything she needed. The rest was just a bunch of useless details.

Jin swore to himself while his fingers flew across the keys, as fast as wind-driven rain drops, and she smiled at the familiar sound of his frustration. Not because he was frustrated, but because the sound was one of the first things she recognized as really “him” after the Kirijo experimented on them and he’d lost his memories and his past. Those burning questions she’d been turning away from all her life had driven him to the depths and corners of the Internet, and now she doubted that he remembered those questions or cared unless Takaya wanted to know. And as for their leader, she had no idea if he remembered his childhood or if he’d lost it like Jin had. Chidori wondered sometimes if it mattered, and her hand flexed like she was grabbing the haft of her axes as the memories returned. Maybe they were both luckier than her.

They were the only ones who knew it, but she hadn’t suffered from memory loss like so many of the other kids had. She'd wanted to when she heard they were having those problems. It sounded like a blessing, and it drove her to push herself and go further to try and burn the past to the ground. But nothing worked. She remembered the orphanage and the beatings from the other children because of her height, because of her hair, because the little she food she ended up was “still too much” for her to have. She remembered being told, over and over, that her parents clearly hadn’t loved her if they’d left her there. She hadn’t known it until only a few years ago, but the average Japanese orphanage was, as far as homes went, a few moldy rungs worse than just living on the streets and sleeping near the sewers. The staff had only been there a few times per week, saying they didn’t have the funding to look after everyone, and sometimes children would be chosen to go to new homes, only to come back covered in bruises. A few didn’t come back, and she had no idea what happened to them or where their bodies ended up.

Chidori stood up and stretched, brushing her dress down after she felt her joints pop. “I’ll be outside if you need me,” she told Jin, grabbing her sketch book and putting her shoes on.

He turned from his computer, his attention on her and a tone of warning in his voice. “Be careful. Do you want me to come with you?”

“I’ll be just around the corner,” she assured him. “But thanks.”

He looked at her for a moment longer before nodding and going back to his searches.

Chidori made her way into the alleys, the edgy looks from the people there. The first few weeks they’d been on Tatsumi Port Island, she and the others had been bothered by vagrants or punks from the schools trying to show off. Since then, there had been a radical decrease in such problems, and Chidori smiled coldly when some people simply left the moment they saw her. Those were the smart ones.

She sat down on the cleanest steps she could find and opened her sketch book. Scenery and people, buildings and vehicles, there was always something. As much grief as her near-perfect memory gave her at times, it was very useful for letting her remember things long enough to draw them, and since she'd been putting memories to graphite ever since her initial interview with her first case worker, she had to admit that she was pretty good at it.

Flipping through the pages brought her to one that stung her heart. The smart red eyes, white fur that looked as soft as a pillow, and the lively energy in his small body that made her wonder if the picture would jump off the page as soon as she finished it.

She wouldn't blame him if he did; she'd tried to kill him.

It still hurt, and that was a rare enough sensation that she wanted to indulge in it a little longer. Remembering the dog in the alley, how Takaya and Medea ordered her to kill him and how cute and friendly he looked, wrenched at her heart. He hadn't deserved it. She hadn't wanted to do it, and she knew it was a mistake the moment that the axe left her hand. Hearing his yelp and seeing the blood made her want to run over and help him, to patch him up and hold him until the Dark Hour ended. She had taken a few steps toward him, ready to do just that and damn the consequences, when he saw those eyes go from friendly and smart to fiery and savage.

She'd never have guessed that a dog could really have a Persona, but for the three-headed guardian of Hell to manifest and try to take her apart... that was more appropriate than she could have guessed. He'd been relentless and had almost gotten her near the end, but she'd given him the slip when his owners, or maybe friends, found him and tried to treat him, holding him even as he clawed and snarled after her.

Chidori sighed, running her hand down the fine lines and the indents in the page. There was still the background to do before the picture was finished, but she decided to keep him like that for a while longer. Even if he'd try to kill her the next time they met, she wanted to keep a little bit of that energy for herself.

"I'm sorry," she murmured to him. He'd been very nice in the short time before she attacked him, and going after animals always felt wrong. Her first pets had been stray cats outside the orphanage. Begging on the streets was better when people could see a bedraggled kitten in the hands of an even more miserable girl, and she always split what she got or stole with her furry friends. Even if most of them only stayed around her when she had food, they cared enough to be honest about that.

Unlike people. People lied and beat her. People were cruel. People deserved it.

Her first foster family had been a set of broken hopes and dreams, and when she crawled back to her caseworker, there was a look of disappointment in the woman's eyes. Apparently it was Chidori's fault that the man had been a deadbeat and his wife was a shrill-voiced hag who worked 60 hours per week. Running away from them had ended with Chidori feeling like she'd just made the woman's job harder by not toughing it out. After she ran away from the second family, she stopped getting interviews with prospective parents. Until a representative from the Kirijo Group had knocked on the door.

She snorted, glaring down the alleyway. Talk about too good to be true. Food and a soft bed and her own room. There was even a girl, she'd heard, who also had red hair who had manifested a Persona. When Chidori had heard that, she hadn't been able to stop the hope that sprung up of meeting someone else like her and maybe making a real friend. Someone who might understand what she'd been through.

She'd never met the girl though. The tame experiments, the poking and prodding with medical instruments and regularly being told 'low priority, re-assess at a later point' were what she remembered the most of the place. That and Miura-san, her therapist. He'd asked her all kinds of questions and seemed honestly upset when she'd told him a little bit about her foster families and the orphanage. He'd said he'd talk to someone about what had happened, and she believed him in spite of herself. She'd told herself not to hope too much, not when he knew so little about her.

A few days later, the facility went up in smoke and she'd had to run from the Shadows and the screams. She'd run with Jin and Takaya, though she hadn't known their names then, from the things chasing them and saw the shredded upper half of Miura-san down one of the sterile, stainless steel hallways, still twitching. And just like that she was back on the street again, back under the power of uncaring society. Always forgotten because nobody cared. Everyone was always too busy getting to work or picking up their kids from school or paying their bills. One of the most socially advanced countries in the world, she'd heard people call Japan, and no one had the time for a filthy little orphan girl.

Takaya had changed that. He took charge of their little group and wouldn't let them waste away at the side. He helped her, gave her a direction, and when they needed things, he bowed to no one. No more asking. No more begging. They took what they wanted, stayed where they liked, and they were strong enough to make anyone who bothered them regret it. Using her Persona against people had never occurred to her, and she'd let the guys do it since it came easier to them. She had her axes and her charms, and that was enough. Or it had been until Takaya had asked her that question:

"What do you want to do, Chi-chan?" he asked calmly. It was a cute little nickname that he'd given her after she begged and pleaded her way into a large seafood platter from a high-end restaurant's chef when they were going to throw it out. Takaya didn't mean more by it than being a friend, she knew, but no one had ever called her that before. It made her feel like part of their little group.

She'd looked at him, cleaning off her blades after a rough encounter with a local gang who'd thought that a foreigner would go for a good price to someone. "What do I want?"

"You must want something now that we're free," he'd told her, holding a hand out to the buildings around them and the still-bleeding bodies of the fools who hadn't gotten the message. "We have a chance to go anywhere and do anything we want. We're free of the chains of the Kirijo and we are bound by nothing, so what do you want to do?"

She blinked. For the first time, someone was asking her what she wanted. Someone was giving her a choice like she mattered. "I... haven't given it much thought."

"If you need help with something, just tell us," Jin assured her. "You've helped us out plenty."

Being recognized like that had made her eyes sting. Years of being overlooked or forgotten, hit and told she wasn't good enough no matter how much she tried, cracked in the face of his honest gratitude. She'd tried to help them, and they really meant it when they said they appreciated it. It was almost too much for her.

"Isn't there something left unfinished for you?" Takaya asked, his voice deepening a little in a tone she knew meant that Hypnos was stirring just under the surface. It was always easy for him to use his Persona, even when they were with the Kirijo. Not like her. She'd been sidelined and told that she wasn't going to amount to much, in spite of having the potential. As far as she could tell, she was on the low end of the spectrum when it came to her powers, and she still couldn't manifest them very easily.

She was startled by his insight. It was useful when he used it on other people, but being on the receiving end made her shiver a little. He would never hurt her, she knew, but still... "What makes you think that?"

"You cringe in your sleep," Takaya told her, "like you're remembering something unpleasant."

"Like you're being hurt," Jin elaborated, stepping forward with a serious look on his face. "Sometimes you get up in the middle of the night and cry. Who did that to you?"

So many faces flashed before her eyes. Fellow orphans, case workers, her step parents. Everyone she'd ever seen on the streets. "That's... it's not important. They can't hurt me now."

"They never should have hurt you to begin with," Takaya told her, a cold smile spreading on his face. "They could have helped you, maybe kept you from the Kirijo. But they didn't, did they? Instead they hurt you for being different from them."

"That's... Not how it happened."

Takaya's smile diminished a little. "Do you owe them something? A debt of some sort? You seem like you're trying to protect them."

She had nothing to say to that. No objection to make that wouldn't sound like an excuse.

He continued, the soft, persuasive tone in his voice getting stronger. "If you owe them something, then we can help you pay it back. If they hurt you, then they should be punished, shouldn't they? Even if it's just a little. That's how the world works. Ask any adult and they'll say the same thing."

The names came with the faces this time. Each one burned into her brain like the beatings and abuse had tattooed them there. She'd tried to forget them, tried to bury them, but now they were where they could hurt her again. And they might if they saw her again, or... No, she thought. Things were different now. She had friends who wouldn't abandon her, for the first time in her life, and they wouldn't let anyone hurt her. But she didn't want to lose them by asking too much. "I couldn't... that would take up so much time..."

"We've got nothing better to do," Jin assured her. "And this place is getting pretty dull. Better scenery and somewhere new would be pretty fun. Just give the word."

She didn't know what pushed her to give the name of her first foster family. She remembered wanting to see them again, to prove that she was better than they were, but she also knew what Takaya and Jin did to people when they tried to push them away. What she did to people when they got in her way.

Was she planning on killing them? No. She wanted to scare them, to make them feel some measure of what they'd put her through. It was only fair.

She hadn't been sure how to address them, or even how she could be sure that both of them would be there for her to talk to, but Jin had gotten information on their shared schedule (Somehow. She didn't know the details) and Takaya had assured her that her foster parents would talk to her and listen to what she had to say. That she had nothing to worry about this time.

She'd gone up to the door that had so terrified her when she was a child, that had left her knees shaking and brought tears to her eyes so long ago, and felt apprehension. She knocked on the door and invited herself in when she heard them inside.

The past and the present meshed and she flinched when the familiar smell of tonkatsu ramen and cheap fabric softener and shoe polish hit her like a slap.

"What do you want?" the husband asked, turning around on the same couch, looking at her without recognizing her for a moment. "We don't need..." then it hit him, and the indifference morphed into resignation, and then into a sneer. "It's you. What do you want?"

She was paralyzed. So many memories rose in that moment that she wasn't in the house anymore. She was at the orphanage, being hit until the rooms melted into the alleys where she curled up under a stolen plastic sheet, trying to sleep as the rain poured around her. Then in the Kirijo facility again, more afraid than she'd ever been before when those things came after her.

Chidori couldn't move when the wife came out, or three more people who Chidori recognized as the wife's brother and parents. The brother had looked at her in strange ways when he visited and always licked his lips when he talked to her, and the mother always rapped Chidori's hands with bony knuckles during dinner, chiding her for her "atrocious" table manners.

"It's alright," Jin told her when he stepped next to her, not letting the adults push them out. "We're here, remember?"

That's right. They were. For the first time, Chidori truly had people in her corner. People who would help her when she needed it. She had real friends.

"You..." she told them, trembling but forcing the words out.

"Are you trying to blame us for something?" the wife demanded, her hair pulled back into a too-tight bun. "Don't waste my time. Hurry up and get out."

"I'm not weak," she told them quietly, more sure of herself when she felt Takaya step up behind her and pat her shoulder in encouragement. "I'm not a child now. You can't hurt me. You can't beat me or starve me or tell me I'm not good enough anymore."

Five pairs of eyes looked at her and not a one showed an inkling of concern. "That might have been different if you'd been a better child," the wife replied, waving her hand dismissively. "You weren't, though, and that's what bad children get. Like a call to the police if you don't get out right now."

Chidori was stunned. Even now, she was getting nowhere. No one looked like they cared that the woman had just admitted to everything she'd been accused of. Accusatory glares, an indifferent stare, and a revolting leer that made her want a bath were all she got after so many sleepless nights and horrible memories.

They were... She was... She...

She was done pretending. She was livid. She was far, far past the point of wanting to just scare them now.

"You..." she grated, eyes burning while that terrible power, the power the Kirijo had given her but had never been able to bring to the surface, boiled in her body and demanded a way out. "You never cared. You never even tried. You never gave one shit about me and everything you put me through!"

"Going to the orphanage was foolish of us," the wife told her coldly. "It was a mistake. Now leave."

"A... a mistake? A mistake!?" she demanded, her voice amplified enough to rattle the dishes in the cabinets. "I was NOT a MISTAKE!!"

Power arced around her like lightning in a bottle. The entire house groaned when a shockwave hammered at the supports, leaving it creaking like it was as afraid of her as the people were. The normal, frail, stupid people had been blown from their feet and were looking at her with raw terror in their eyes.

Chidori felt something at her side. Something materializing from nothing, tall and gangly and beast-like. Something she'd been given when the Kirijo took her in.

Medea.

"You! ALL of YOU were the MISTAKES!!" she screamed, turning her power loose and directing it toward them.

She didn't know what precisely happened after that. The entire floor had rumbled and cracked, the sound of things and people breaking filled her ears for a few seconds that seemed like they'd go on forever. When she opened her eyes, not knowing when she closed them, almost every surface had been stained a slick red. Parts of her first adopted family had been torn up and scattered across the place. Three of the shapes only vaguely resembled humans now, flayed and torn apart.

Her foster father had half the living room table lodged in his chest, his eyes already glazing over. The three in the kitchen were unrecognizable, slashed into chunks of meat. Only Chidori's foster mother was still moving, an arm torn off and her side ripped open. She was crawling toward her, her attached arm raised as she was bleeding out.

"Pl...please," the woman gasped hoarsely, wetly, going into shock. "I'm sorry. H-help..."  
Something died in Chidori just then. So much abuse, so much pain inflicted, and the woman behind it was begging for her life less than a minute after she'd been ready to slap her again and throw her into the street. So much anger, so much spite, all gone now. How... pathetic.

"Alright," Chidori told her quietly, stepping forward and bending over the woman. "Alright, Mom, I'll help you."

There was barely enough time to look grateful before Chidori's axes came out. The woman was dead by the third swing, her head severed from her neck by the sixth swing, and Chidori's arm was sore from her swinging over and over and over and over again by the fourteenth. The body she was hacking into gave no response to the strikes except to jostle a little like a side of beef on a spike. All she felt was the tears on her face and how her teeth were bared in a fierce, hateful snarl.

She finally stopped when her shoulder throbbed, begging her for a reprieve. She pulled her breath in raggedly, gasping sharply as she came back to the world. The blood on her hands and face was warm, warmer than the people who'd shed it had ever been, and there was something comforting about how quiet it was now.

After a while, or maybe right then, she didn't know, Jin spoke up. "We can stay here for as long as you want, but someone's probably going to call the cops from all the noise. Or they'll come to see what happened to... them." There was nothing in his tone. No disgust or fear or care. He could have been ordering lunch for all the concern he showed.

Staying there was a tempting offer, but Chidori knew that it wasn't an option. The cops would have had a hard time stopping three Persona-Users, and while she'd never gotten anything from the police except harassment about sleeping on the street, it wasn't worth the effort.

Not when seeing the people who'd hurt her so much reduced to slabs for the coroner ignited a feeling of anticipation in her heart. Not when her list was still so long.

"We'll leave," she told them, her dress now red with a few spots of white on it. "There are some others I want to visit. Do you mind?"

Takaya smiled to her, and she didn't care whether it was him or Hypnos that replied. They were both her friends, and they'd stood with her through it all. "Not at all. We're here to help you."

They took to the streets, and Chidori began to give Jin the names from her list. Her second foster family, the bullies who'd harassed her, the attendants, her caseworkers, everyone. She'd wanted to get started right away, but Jin had told her to wait a while between visits. Too many deaths too close together would have sparked an interest, and news of a slaughtered family had hit the evening news by the time they'd gotten back to their hideout.

It took years, and a lot of traveling. She had no idea how Jin had found them, especially since some had changed their names, but he tracked them down and, when the time was right, Chidori paid each of them a 'house call.' She started with her second foster family and used her axes that time, aiming for extremities and making it last instead of using Medea. She made it last. Next had been the orphanage attendants, who had apologized to Chidori only after she killed half their families. Next had been her caseworkers, and the thrill started to give way to an emptiness in her heart. She didn't make those ones last and was in and out in only a few minutes. By then the Kirijo were investigating the murders, but Jin kept them one jump ahead of their dogs.

Ten years after her escape from the compound and her first meeting with Medea, Chidori had killed the last person on her list, cornering him and crushing him with a dead-eyed gaze like a squeezed doll. She'd looked to Takaya, who had the same smile as ever, and asked, "What now?"

She always asked him that, and sometimes they would hide, other times they'd have dinner as a team. As friends. This time, he'd told her something different. "I feel like we should go home for now."

Tatsumi Port Island. As good a place as any. It had proven a little interesting, but by then fighting off gangs and establishing their turf was routine and dull. Jin's revenge website had been fun for a while, but the thrill died down from that too.

Until the names Arisato Minato and Iori Junpei came up. Since then, things were actually getting a bit interesting.

"Chi-chan," Takaya called her from the alley corner, breaking her from her reverie. "Are you well enough fight?"

She shook her head a little, locking the memories up and flipping her sketchbook closed as she rose. "Of course," she replied. "What do you have in mind?"

"The full moon is tomorrow night," he told her, his smile growing. "SEES will be out, trying to save the world again."

She narrowed her eyes a little, looking at him quizzically. "Are you planning another ambush?"

"No," he asserted, "not this time. They will be expecting that. But you said that one of their members is rather fond of you, correct? I think it's time we utilize that."

Chidori smiled coldly, her hands flexing and the smell of blood already in her mind.

Animals she'd leave alone, especially SEES's white dog. But people? Yes, people were just fine.

 

* * *

 

"Has anyone seen Junpei?" Yukari asked as they gathered at the mall in front of Club Escapade, looking around with her brow creased in suspicion. "He said he was going to meet us here after he looked after something."

Everyone replied with shakes of the head or shrugs.

"Did he tell you what it was?" Fuuka asked as she tied a new bandana around her neck, full water cooler at her feet.

"No," was Yukari's frustrated reply while she ran a hand back through her hair, "and he seemed like he was trying to keep it secret. I ran into him in the lobby when he was leaving and he tried to make me promise not to tell anyone."

"That's not like him," Minato noted, stretching and rolling his wrists. "Do you have any idea what it might have been?"

Yukari shook her head, her brow creasing even more. "I have no idea. He knew tonight was the full moon, though, and he seemed to think that whatever it was wasn't going to take very long."

Mitsuru-senpai looked at them from where she'd been staring at the club door, concern clear on her face. "It's not safe for him to be alone like this. Yamagishi, can you find him?"

Fuuka stepped away from them, held her arms out, and manifested Lucia around her. "I'll look right now, Senpai. Give me a few minutes."

Minato flexed his hands and rubbed them while they waited, glad that the residual pain had finally healed. He pulled his Evoker out and tested his grip, staring at the polished metal. What a difference it made, having the tool in hand. He'd gotten so used to it being there that he'd taken it for granted, and the feeling of his Personas ripping out of him had been on his mind since that night in the alleys. Enough to make him shiver whenever the thought came to visit. He promised himself that he'd use his Evoker instead of summoning raw. There was no telling how serious the damage would be if he took that chance again.

Fuuka let out a puzzled sound across their mental link. "This is strange. I feel like he's in the area, but I can't get a clear direction. Something is definitely wrong."

"Could it be that someone is blocking you?" Minato asked, resting his forearm on his sword hilt. "Like when we were ambushed?"

"It does feel like that," Fuuka confirmed a few moments later. "Not completely the same, but it is very similar."

"Our friends are back, then," Minato concluded, cursing to himself. Junpei might have walked into a trap, and Minato hadn't had the time to double-check everything before tonight. Did this have anything to do with the girl in Junpei's life? That was the sort of thing that would get the teen's attention, and, Minato deduced, it was the only new variable he could think of that might have changed anything.

"We should go find them then," Yukari told him, a grim look in her eye. "We owe them that much."

"I agree," Fuuka chimed in. "If it is them again, then we can't let them get away."

Minato grit his teeth. Of course. Taking Junpei was a hit to the team, but taunting the people who had a reason to go after him was a quick way to isolate them again. And he wasn't going to go down that road again. "If we do that, we're putting everyone at risk," he told them, drawing understanding looks and incredulous stares. "Splitting up might be what they are expecting, and they might have something new for us this time."

"We know how they'll respond to us though," Yukari argued. "You and Fuuka know what to expect, and we'll be together this time. They can't fight all of us off."

"We survived because they decided to let us go last time," Minato countered, his voice flat. Just thinking about that night made his hands and arms ache. "I have no idea if we're ready to fight them, especially not against someone who knows more about Personas than we do. Going after them means fighting on their terms, just like last time. I understand where you're coming from, but are we really at an advantage just because we weren't killed before?"

"Minato-kun's assessment is appropriate for this scenario," Aigis told them, barely visible under all her weapons. "We still lack sufficient information on that group to safely determine our odds of success. Without a clear advantage, or at least a neutral field of battle, we cannot be sure of everyone's safety. Furthermore, if we are not able to rescue Junpei-san with sufficient time to defeat the Shadow, we will have lost our opportunity for this month. According to the mission parameters, this is unacceptable. Additionally, we must fight the Shadow tonight. Doing so while injured or fatigued lowers our chances of success significantly."

"She has a point," Akihiko-senpai pointed out, cracking his neck with a grunt. "Taking on one of the big ones when we're not at 100% is playing with fire. Especially after last time."

Ken looked like he wanted to say something, but kept quiet. Maybe because he was the newest member, or maybe because the Shadow's presence could be felt even from here. Either way, he was petting Koromaru behind the ears, trying to distract the dog from his downcast looks and whimpers to the others. The rest of them were stony-faced or chewing over the situation and not getting anywhere.

"That's..." Yukari whispered, anger gritting her teeth while understanding grew in her eyes. "I know all that, but we can't just leave him there. Not with those psychos. He's one of us, isn't he?"

"He is," Minato assured her, "and we're not abandoning him. If we kill the Shadow fast enough, we'll find him and get him back before the Dark Hour's over. We'll do it together so that no one's put at risk."

Shinjiro-senpai stepped forward, a huge axe propped on his shoulder like it weighed as much as a pool cue. "Not to put a damper on your plan," he began, face in his usual, impatient "don't waste my time" scowl, "but if they wanted to kill him, they might do it before we get there."

Fuuka and Ken gasped and Koromaru whined louder. Minato's eyes narrowed. Was their newest member testing him? Or was this how he handled pre-battle prep and planning sessions? Either way, he kept his voice steady. "As far as we know, it's me they want. That seemed to be their angle last time. They took him as bait for a trap, but if they do think I'm coming, even if I'm a bit late, they'll keep him alive."

"But they could still kill him if you annoy them," the taller teen pointed out. "Right?"

"Let's not talk about him like he's already dead," Mitsuru-senpai told them sternly, hand on her hip. "We're inviting trouble if we do. And I have faith in him; Iori's very resourceful. He'll buy us the time we need."

"I agree," Fuuka added.

"If they wanted to kill him, they'd have done it instead of kidnapped him," Minato asserted. "And they could do that even if we leave right now. Our best bet is to take the Shadow down fast and go after Junpei in numbers. We don't need a repeat of what happened last time."

Yukari shook a little, her fists clenched, but she looked at him with a hard determination in her eyes. It was easy to imagine what, and who, she was thinking of just then. "Alright. Let's do it then."

Minato looked at his comrades. "Everyone get ready. Escapade doesn't have many places to hide, so let's do it right. Don't take any chances, understand?"

Everyone nodded and checked their weapons one last time. Mitsuru-senpai had her arms lightly crossed as she walked over to him. "How are you doing?" she asked, looking lovely under her unflattering body armour and surrounded by the stink of rot.

"100% and ready to go," he assured her, cracking his knuckles and running his thumbs along his freshly-filed fingernails. In spite of the dangers of their work, it was good to be fighting again. Much better than being propped up on a bed while the doctors poked at him.

"Good," she replied, leaning forward a little to give him a knowing look. "I'm glad that your hands are feeling better. It was rather reckless of you to lie your way out of the hospital like that."

Minato froze, then looked at her with a bashful smile. "You knew, huh? I can't hide anything for you, Senpai."

"No, you can't. It was rather obvious at the festival," she told him with a victorious little smile that pressed her bow-like lips together. "The way you held things, how you flexed your hands, gave you away. I hope you haven't suffered any permanent damage because of that."

Minato shrugged. "I'm fine. I was sore for a while, but everything's working like it should."

Mitsuru-senpai rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Don't do it again please. Your health is important and we don't need you suffering from injuries because you pushed yourself."

"I'll be careful," he promised her, sidling a little closer to her with a smile on his face. "But even if it did hurt, it was definitely worth it."

She blinked rather cutely and her cheeks were tinged red as they pulled up in a smile. "I thought so too," she murmured before her features settled into a cast they both knew meant business. "Are we ready?" she asked the others after turning to face them.

"Ready and willing," Akihiko-senpai replied.

Minato nodded, took a bracing breath and let it out in a short hiss, the familiar sensation of killing readiness and adrenaline mixing in his veins. "Let's go to work."

 

* * *

 

"They're not coming for you," Chidori told him, leaning against the wall in a patch of darkness that obscured even the white of her dress. "Seems they think the Shadow is more important than one of their own."

Junpei struggled against the cords that held him to the chair, feeling them cut into his wrists and bite into where they'd already broken the skin. The pain was a nice distraction from beating himself up over being so gullible and careless. She'd gotten the drop on him, but he'd made it way too easy for her, coming unarmed and without even thinking that all his empty bragging was going to bite him in the ass like this.

"I don't blame them," he told her, looking for something say. If she was talking to him, she wasn't eyeing up prime parts to cut off with those axes of hers. He'd already cursed her out, calling her everything he could think of in the moment. It hadn't made a difference though, and instead it had only left him feeling worse. He swore at himself. Why should it? She'd led him on, jumped him and tied him up, so why did it hurt to remember all the things he'd called her? He hated giving weight to those idiots at school, but this was definitely one of his stupider moments. "We have a job to do, and that comes first."

"Hmmmm," she taunted, stepping away from the wall and setting the flat of one of her axe blades on his shoulder, holding it there despite how he tried to move away from it. "That's very loyal of you. Only thinking of the mission and the job. Rather predictable for a Kirijo stooge."

He glared at her while still trying to get away from that axe. He knew enough about swords and blades to recognize that it was very, very sharp. "What does that have to do with it? What does the Kirijo Group or Senpai have to do with any of this?"

"They train for obedience," she told him, her voice flat and her eyes hard. "They reward for little tricks and don't let their people off the leash."

Had she always been like this? Was it the difference in surroundings? Her face had a menacing cast to it, her cheekbones made her look threatening instead of classically pretty, and those cute hands of hers looked ready to slowly pull his heart out instead of draw in that sketch book of hers. He didn't remember her looking this way in the daylight, nor could he have imagined her being this dangerous when he first laid eyes on her.

"They give their orders, they get results, and they don't care who they have to step on to get what they want," she continued. "I don't know what they did to get you on their side, and it doesn't really matter. But this is what following them gets you."

"I'm here because I want to be here," he told her, his teeth setting together. "Not because Senpai made me an offer. We kill Shadows and help The Lost. People are better off from what we do. How is that a bad thing?"

"You do that because someone else told you to," she noted in a condescending tone. "Do you give any thought to what happens to those people after you save them? Maybe they have brain damage. Maybe they remember the things that attacked them and they snap. Are you really saving anyone? Have you even thought of that?"

"They go to the hospital for observation and the Kirijo Group checks them out before letting them go," Junpei spat, struggling against his bonds again. Maybe if they got enough blood on then, he'd be able to get a hand free. "We do follow-ups when we can because, yes, we actually care about what happens to them. We don't hide in the shadows and kill people, or corner a high school student and blow her brains out."

Chidori blinked, her face not changing in the slightest. But she did pull her axe back to her side, holding it like it was a natural part of her hand. "So what? She was going to die one day anyway."

"So are you," Junpei snapped. "We all are, and some of us deserve it more than others. But her? She was seventeen and she sure as hell didn't deserve it. I know her parents, I sit next to her boyfriend, and what you did broke them. I'll take being a stooge who helps people over being a murderer."

"I didn't kill her," she replied tonelessly. "It doesn't matter though. She was dead as soon as she woke up. If we hadn't done it, the Shadows would have. Maybe killing her like that was a mercy. Maybe we spared her from going through something worse."

"Or she might have survived through the Dark Hour. Scared and hurt, maybe, but she'd still be alive!"

Her head tilted to the side while she looked at him like he was a strange animal at the zoo. "Does that bother you? You barely knew her, and I doubt she gave you the time of day. Why do you care?"

"The people in her life cared," he insisted, heat burning his words and igniting his glare. "They're good people who loved her, and she had a life ahead of her that didn't involve any of this shit. Now she's dead and those people are a mess because of you. Of course I'm pissed off: her life mattered. Everyone's life does."

That got him a raised eyebrow, and nothing more. "Even yours? Your friends don't seem to think so."

He shook his head, staring at her and not wavering in the slightest. "They'll be here. I know them that well."

She chuckled without a hint of humour. "You're an idiot."

"Maybe," he shrugged as much as the cords would let him. It was time he started asking the questions. "But what about you? You sound like you've got a bone to pick with Senpai and the Kirijo Group, so what's your story?"

"That's my business."

"Sure it is, but it's not like I can do anything if you tell me, right? I'm tied up here and we'd never heard of you until you locked us up with that tank." That was a blind stab. He had no idea if she'd been involved with that, but the list of people who could have done it was pretty short. "You can talk about that, right?"

She blinked, then tilted her head a little. "Who was fighting that Shadow when you saw it? You weren't the only ones in there, were you?"

Junpei grinned and raised his eyebrows. Finally, something she was interested in. "Why do you want to know? You know everything else about us, so what's stopping you there?"

Her hand flew forward, and Junpei ducked to the side as fast as he could to avoid the axe by mere centimeters as it sliced past him. His momentum was enough to send him to the ground on his side, still bound and tied up, with a hard crash. "We don't know!" he shouted, pushing the words out past his racing heart. "We thought he or she was with you guys, but no one was there when we saw it. Someone who had a Persona, that's it."

Chidori pulled on the chain to free her axe from where it was imbedded, half an inch deep, into the wall. A swift yank and it flew back to her hand like an obedient puppy. "That's a shame. Whoever it was did a good job of ruining a perfectly good trap."

"Then it wasn't one of you, huh?" Junpei asked while he shifted around on the floor, trying to get a bit more comfortable. "I would've pegged one of you guys for it, though. Hiding and sneaking around seems to be your thing."

She didn't take the bait, instead flicking her eyes over him in a way that was probably reserved for the mildest of minor annoyances. "Maybe. You're talking too much."

"Not like I have much else to do, right?" He tried for a different approach, remembering all of Kenji's failed pick-up lines and how suave he thought he was despite being shot down by every older girl he talked to. "So, how about it?" he asked with a pained grin. "What makes you tick? There has to be more to you than axes and drawing, right?"

He wasn't so sure that he'd asked the right question this time, because she took several steps forward, her lips spreading into a smile that would have been rather pretty if her eyes weren't getting even colder.

 

* * *

 

"I hate being right," Minato swore, pulling the trigger and igniting the air in front of him as another murder of Shadows swooped at him. "Just once I'd like to be wrong in a good way."

It wasn't been as bad as he'd expected. His joke to Mitsuru-senpai about the next Shadow possessing an aircraft carrier hadn't come to pass. But the Shadow, made up of live wires and hissing power cables, had brought friends. Lots and lots of friends. Smaller Shadows scurried at them from the corners and dove at them from the blackened ceiling, keeping everyone firing in sequence and fighting in pairs. Akihiko-senpai and Shinjiro-senpai tore up the front line with him and Mitsuru-senpai, alternating and cutting and blowing holes in the surging walls of darkness and flashing claws and fangs. Yukari and Aigis covered them at range, bullets and wind blasts covering their flanks. And Ken and Koromaru moved between the two, their shared size and speed making them a match for anything that got through.

If they'd split up before, they'd have been dead. Minato was furiously glad he had them next to him. And all their training and practice had them working like a well-oiled team and fighting perfectly. Now if the small fries would just stop coming...

The towering Shadow glared at them with eyes that glowed like the contact point of an arc welder, staring a piercing bright blue as it roared and swung and ripped up the floor. Electricity arced around them and sent them dodging to the side while Aigis lined up another shot with her grenade launcher and Persona. When the Shadow recoiled, a phantom howl followed, and they all fired off at once to unleash a barrage of power that would have brought the whole building down.

If it had connected.

Flocks of Shadows flew in front of their target, forming a shield against the blasts and sacrificing themselves to take the edge off the strikes. And when Polydeuces and Castor hammered at it, they collided with a barrier made from the power the Shadow was drawing from the city grid. At best, only two of their strikes were getting through every time they struck, and the Shadow only glowed brighter and get angrier.

"Nothing's ever easy," he gritted, cutting another Shadow down and turning so he was back-to-back with Mitsuru-senpai before he pulled the trigger.

"It's charging up again!" Fuuka warned them sharply. "Be careful!"

The floor buckled and the Shadows swooped down while the entire room was bathed in electric blue.

"Get ready," Mitsuru-senpai told him, sweating and bleeding a little.

Like a searchlight, the Shadow's stare focused on her and Minato, and he pushed her forward while running away from her. "Move!" he shouted, diving just as the lightning and thunder roared just past him. The explosion wasn't far away enough this time, and sent him flying.

Hitting the ground left him dazed, and he could only hear Fuuka yelling at him to get up and look out for the incoming Shadows. Everything else was dull noise or high-pitched ringing, even though he saw the others yelling at him. He tried getting up and could barely move his legs. He's been hit enough in passing that his body wasn't listening to him, jerking from the voltage.

Minato didn't have the time to swear, and wouldn't have heard himself anyway, because the spotlight fell on him and narrowed like he was on stage.

Holding himself up on his sword, he looked up into the Shadow's hateful stare. Detachment and fighting fury gave way to fear as its eyes narrowed and its flocks swooped down at him.

He was back in the alleys, Death staring at him as that flayed Persona screamed like a chorus of the damned. Then he was in the bunker, a loaded cannon pointed at his face.

Minato grit his teeth, stared, and fought to keep the terror down. It wouldn't do him any good here. He clenched his Evoker but could barely move it. Instead his muscles tightened and jerked, refusing to listen to him. He struggled to get it up one last time when the killing darkness...

...stopped.

The Shadows screamed around him like water around a rock, loud enough to make his head spin. Their master's gaze lightened, from dark blue to light azure like someone had dialed back how much power it was getting. Something brushed his face that wasn't there, and the familiar sensation of beetles and needles crawled up his body, rattling together until words formed. Words in a voice that sounded like poured gravel on a hill and rumbles of thunder carried in the clouds.

"YOU..."

The Shadow's touch on his mind deafened him to everything else, from Fuuka's attempts to get through to him to the others fighting even harder. Its presence rolled over him like a wave and shook him to his knees. This time they weren't just words, but feelings. Rage and jealousy and isolation, hatred from being alone. Unending spite against people and hardened control over the smaller Shadows. But past all that was clear recognition, and Minato looked up at it. And saw understanding in its blinding stare.

"IT IS YOU!"

It was a chance. A chance he didn't have before, and he wasn't going to lose it. "Who are you?" Minato demanded, his own voice muffled in his ears. "How do you know me!?"

Its head lowered, arms stationary and only glowing a little. "YOU DON'T KNOW? YOU DON'T REMEMBER?"

"Remember what? There's nothing to remember!" The adrenaline helped Minato stand while the chance to get to the bottom of the mystery gave him focus.

"THERE IS MUCH TO REMEMBER."

"Then tell me what it is!"

It shifted and rumbled in a move that Minato knew, somehow, was a nod. "YOU ARE THE–"

Its words were drowned out by a impossibly loud, high-pitched shriek. Its surprise had apparently been so great that it had dropped its shields. A combined blast from the others, more powerful than anything they'd created before, screaming toward the Shadow like a fully-armed harrier jet. It tore past the frantic minions and their attempts at a defence and crashed into the Shadow's face.

Its words were lost in a pained, primal scream that shook the building to the foundation. The follow-up blast ended its voice entirely. Its body slumped forward, not quite done, before the electric glow faded to black and its frame began to dissolve. The smaller Shadows screeched as one and blew through the ceiling, escaping into the night.

Minato stared at where the Shadow had been. He'd gotten close, might have gotten closer, but... He bit his tongue to keep the fierce sense of frustration down. It wasn't his team's fault. They were there to kill the Shadows, and nothing was worth the risk they would have undertaken if it had attacked while he was talking to it. But to lose his chance yet again...

He was deaf to the others calling him, and he ignored Fuuka's mental link when it was re-established. He walked to where the black muck that had been the Shadow was dropping to the ground like hot slop.

The Shadow in the tank had died the same way. He'd tried to pick up a sense of what the Shadow was thinking, and it hadn't killed him before. He knelt and touched the liquid.

It burned, scorching pain and loud ringing flashing up his arm and hitting his skull before he jerked his hand back. Feeling rushed back to his body, and his legs went weak as his nerves recovered, his balance steady in a heartbeat.

The noise subsided, and in its wake was a word in the Shadow's voice, a whisper on a breeze instead of on a storm:

"...Appriser..."

"Are you alright?!" Mitsuru-senpai demanded, grabbing his shoulder.

He could hear her. He could hear all of them, well enough that he stepped back and shook his head at the sudden shift in volume.

It was more than that though. Something flowed into him at that moment, the pain disappeared, and there was a touch of... satisfaction? Accomplishment? Were these the Shadow's thoughts? Why did it–

"Arisato," his red-headed comrade began, voice quiet. "Did it talk to you again?"

Appriser. It had called him an Appriser. Of what? Of who? Why him and not anyone else? How was he connected to them? That they were was impossible to ignore now. He was one thread in the scarf, the Shadows were the others, but how? Why? Was someone behind this?

"It knew who I was," he replied, voice dull as he tried to work through it in his head. "Like the other ones. It recognized me and was about to say something when it died."

"The Shadows spared you," she noted. "The leader didn't want to kill you? Why?"

"I have no idea, Senpai," he told her. "It was like it wanted–"

"Let's go find Junpei!" Yukari yelled at them. "We're running out of time!" She and Aigis were already heading for the door, Koromaru close at heel.

Minato shook his head, trying to clear it of the feeling that something had happened. Something much, much more than them killing something that was eating people's souls. "We'll figure it out later," he told her, nowhere near as convincing as he tried to be. "The night's not over yet."

She didn't move as the others followed Yukari. She was staring at him and her eyes were even more troubled than before. He read in them the same question that was going through his own mind:

What's going on?

 

* * *

 

"Bullshit," Iori Junpei told her. "I get that the Kirijo experimented on you, but the rest of it? Being used by the military as a weapon or knowing those people in the Diet? You're full of it."

Chidori smiled coldly. She hadn't expected it to turn out this way, but toying with him was rather fun. He seemed set on getting to know her, taking a few morsels of her past and trying to piece her entire history together from them. It was so entertaining that she'd started lying, making things up as she went. When he didn't react to the subtle things she tossed in, she got more outlandish and ridiculous. That was when he started calling her on it. "So, what?" she taunted. "You wanted to know more about me. You didn't say that the information had to be accurate."

He snorted and struggled, still on the floor. "You making it up defeats the purpose of telling me, doesn't it?"

"Not to me," she told him with a fake pout like she'd seen other girls do when they wanted something. "I was having fun."

"Glad you found it funny, but you're still full of shit."

He was still acting tough. Or maybe he wasn't acting at all and had gotten tired of being afraid of her. "Hmmm. Maybe. Maybe not. But that doesn't matter."

"Something matters to you though, doesn't it?" he asked with a calculating look in his eyes. He was trying to figure her out. "More than just screwing with me while I'm tied up like this. No one just lives for killing people."

All she gave him was a chuckle. "If there was, I wouldn't tell you. You know enough about me as it is. And you're wrong: some people do live for killing. Soldiers, hired professionals. And me. My body count's at thirty-nine."

His eyes narrowed. He seemed to think she was lying again. "How much of that is true though?"

"Maybe all of it," she replied with a careless shrug. "Probably none of it. Either way it's more than you deserve."

"You weren't always like this though, were you?"

"Neither were you," she noted, chuckling darkly. "Or do they tie you to your chair at the Kirijo dormitory? It makes sense if you're this blind and stupid all the time."

"Go to hell."

"Such words. I'm a little–" Chidori's teeth closed on the end of her tongue, stopping her words. Medea whispered in her ear, telling her that her fun with the captive was at an end. Several familiar signatures were approaching. It seemed that SEES's detector had gotten better since last time.

She went over her plan in her head and glanced toward her escape route, ready if things went badly. With a smile that sent her captive shivering, she crouched next to him and rested one of her axes on his neck, letting it have enough pressure to break the skin a little. "Sharing time is over," she told him in a hard whisper. "Your friends are coming, and I'll kill you if you even move wrong. Understand?"

He went pale enough that she noticed even in the dim light, despite his eyes hardening. "Yeah, I underst–"

Chidori reached down, her fingers biting into his jaw as she held it shut. "I don't think you do," she continued, rocking her axe blade back and forth. "If you yell out or try to warn them, you die. If you trying using your Persona, you die. If you try kicking me or cause some sort of a stupid distraction, I'll kill you slowly. If I kill them, I'll just skin you alive. Got it?"

He glared at her, a lot of anger and not very much fear in that stare. She had to give him credit; this was where most people started begging. But he kept his mouth shut even when she took her hand away. "Following orders like a good dog," she mocked, patting him on the head and chuckling quietly when he growled at her. "Now now, boy. Be nice and stay there."

She balanced one of her axes and waited. The stairs leading to the room creaked, just a little but several times, one after the other. They were here, and they were trying to be quiet.

"Just assess them," Jin had told her. "Test them, get a feel for how they operate, then get out of there. The stairs are their only way up, and they can't rush you in that place. But don't get careless. Get a feel for them and then get out. Leave Iori for them."

She steadied her breathing and stared at the door. She could feel them just around the corner, anticipation mounting while her lips peeled back in a grin.

The door slammed open, a flash of red streaking from the door to the opposite wall.

She stopped the impulse to attack. Instead she waited half a second, then lined up a shot and threw at the dark shape that bolted past the red vest that had been the distraction. The axe whirled through the air and caught her target in the shoulder, resulting in a pained yell.

Chidori pulled back when the impact registered in her mind. Something had stopped the axe from going very deep, and it hadn't felt like flesh and bone this time. Metal. Armour.

A pale hand snapped up to grab the chain before she could retract the weapon holding it in place. She tried pulling back but the person, she couldn't see him clearly, held tight.

Small feet rushed along the side of the room and she smirked. So many people in a small doorway kept them from rushing her. She threw her second axe at her first target, making him dive to the floor and let the chain go. She pulled her weapons back and turned to see a kid, not in high school yet, staring at her and raising an Evoker.

He was a child. He'd get nothing different from her.

Chidori raised her Evoker in reply, sending a blast of raw power against the boy that should have taken his head off. He pulled the trigger at just the right time though, and instead it blew him off his feet and back against the wall with a hard crack.

She released the trigger, heard it click as the hammer reset, and pulled it again. The stains would be smaller than usual. Nothing new.

A massive Persona formed in front of the kid, taking the hit and staggering as it protected him. This one was familiar, and she turned to see, of all people, Aragaki by the door.

Jin had said he'd thrown his lot in with SEES. He still seemed to know what he was doing, though the horrified look the kid he'd just saved was giving his Persona told her something was going on. Something he wasn't aware of if his hard stare to her, and not at the teammate he'd just saved, was any indication.

Her lips twitched. A bit of drama in their future? Interesting. But it was time to go.

She backed away turning for one last shot at whoever she'd hit with her axe. Her eyes narrowed and her finger pulled on the trigger.

Then his head raised, a polished Evoker in his hand, and her focus snapped. Medea cut out halfway through manifesting and what power she had summoned shielded her, for the most part, against a blast of yellow fire, high enough to not hit her hostage.

Fear. Terror. Pain. Him him him himhimhimHimHIM!

Chidori stumbled, dropping her Evoker and chains when the darkness, the pain, ripped across the room and felt like it shredded into her. Peeling her skin off and breaking her bones and putting her back together.

Darkness. Death. The end of everything.

"No... NO!" she shouted, scrambling back until she hit the wall. Her heart raced, trying to flee her body. Her breath tripped in and out, her feet stuck to the floor, and every plan to escape vanished from her mind. "No get away get away get away get away GET AWAY FROM ME!!"

A gunshot and a blue glow. It raced toward her and she raised her hands. "MEDEA!!" she screamed, every ounce of her power in that name.

Something hit her Persona and thunder exploded all around her, blowing her back against the wall. Except the wall wobbled. And there was dust in the air.

She opened her eyes, turned and saw...down. Street, sidewalk, and lights where the wall and the window should have been. Instead there was a ragged edge on the second-floor building, the lane below littered with destroyed glass and wood.

Medea had saved her. That blast would have killed her.

A footstep hit the floor and she jerked back, head whipping up to see the same student Jin had pointed out months ago. Back then she'd felt a darkness in him that had terrified her and sent her running for the door. It had given her nightmares for almost a week.

Now he was right in front of her. His aura, visible from summoning his Persona, was edged with something that defied any explanation. Something lethal, something black. Something that cast a shadow on the Dark Hour itself.

She scrambled to the torn-open wall, bracing for the impact and about to jump when strong arms yanked her up and slammed her against what remained of the wall. Hands fisted on the front of her dress and kept her from escaping, no matter how hard she struggled.

"Stop trying to escape," a voice, deep and feminine and hard, told her.

Chidori couldn't tell who it was or what this woman looked like. She didn't know the members of SEES like Jin did. All she knew was that whoever was holding her was tall enough to block her view of him, and that cut his influence down. Enough that she could breathe a little and just shake like a penny in a rattled paint can.

"Now." The woman's words come out slow and deliberate, sometimes tightening with her fists on Chidori's dress. "You're not going to try anything, are you?"

"No," Chidori replied immediately.

"Are you alright, Junpei?!" someone asked nearby, cutting at the cords.

"Yeah, I'm alive," her hostage replied. He was pretty quiet now. "Are you guys alright?"

"About the same as you," an older student with silver hair told him, looking at her warily.

"You can use a Persona without an Evoker," the woman continued. "Like the person who fought Arisato a few weeks ago. How do you do that?"

Chidori was confused. Anyone could do that if they tried hard enough. Couldn't they? "I... What do you mean?"

"What's the process?"

"There isn't one. It's something we do." She nodded toward the student who was still blessedly out of sight. "Just like him. Ask him instead."

"This is an unusual anomaly," someone said nearby, sounding like a talking computer. "What do these people have in common with Minato-kun? And why did the Persona-User who pursued him and Fuuka-san not exhibit the same trait?"

"Something we can ask her when we get out of here," Aragaki told them while he glared at her.

Chidori saw a familiar outline of a pill bottle in his pocket. Did they know?

The woman cut off her thoughts just then. "We're taking you with us for questioning and treatment. There will be hospital staff there, normal people who had nothing to do with what happened to you. They won't hurt you, but if you do anything to them, I'll bring Arisato to your room and leave you with him until you go insane. Am I clear?"

"Anything," Chidori told her frantically, squirming in the grip and scrabbling against the floor. It got her nowhere. "I'll do anything. Keep him away, far away from me."

The grip on her shoulder tightened, and she finally looked up into the woman's eyes. And saw red. Red eyes, red hair, a big red ribbon, and not an ounce of forgiveness or give. But they were around the same age. Was she the one? Had she been the same girl the kids talked about ten years ago?

"I didn't ask if you'd do anything. I asked if you understood me. Arisato can ask the questions, if you'd like."

Chidori seized up when he took a few steps forward, coming into view just a little. Dead eyes and a dead expression flickered with suppressed darkness, his stance unchanging like he didn't know it was there. "No!" Chidori screamed. "No no no no no. I'll do it. I won't touch anyone, won't use Medea. Do what you want to me, but keep that thing... keep it away from me."

"It? What's she talking about?" a different girl, Takeba, asked.

"She's pointing at Minato-kun," the girl who Jin had been hunting noted.

Chidori forgot her name. Yama-something. It didn't matter. None of them did. Not even Aragaki, who clearly recognized her.

Only he mattered.

"Even the people at school haven't called me that," he commented, and just his voice sent shivers of pain through the air. The world shuddered around him and even the Dark Hour bent around him like it wanted to be anywhere but near him. "I'm kind of hurt."

For him to speak of being hurt... he had no idea.

"We'll take her to the hospital," the redhead told them, still holding her by the shoulder. "The Dark Hour will be over soon and we need some rest. Iori, can you walk?"

Like loyal dogs, they'd come to collect their idiot. And they'd brought their own dog, who was staring hellfire at her and growling fiercely while the air rippled around him. Just a Persona. That was okay. It was much better than that.

"I'm fine, Senpai," he told her, rubbing his wrists and giving Chidori a look that was probably supposed to bother her. "Just hurt my pride."

"We're glad you're alright," Takeba told him, a sentiment that was echoed by the others.

"Let's go," the redhead told them, holding Chidori's arms behind her back and pushing her toward the door.

She was back where she started, back under the Kirijo's control, but suddenly it felt like the best choice. She was alive, she could plan an escape, and Jin and Takaya could still contact her.

She'd do anything they wanted, say whatever she had to, so long as that thing stayed far, far, far away from her.


	10. Attaque au Fer

"I know it's short notice," Minato told her, trying not to speak too loudly in the sterile hallway. The hospital staff had already given him crap for using his phone where he wasn't supposed to and he was lucky enough that Elizabeth had picked up this time instead of Igor, "but I need to talk to you as soon as I can."

"Are you certain you can't speak to the Master about this, Arisato-sama?" she inquired, drawing out every syllable in that haunting way of hers. "He's here and ready to answer any inquiries you might have. He's expressed an interest in your growing abilities, actually."

"Is that our young Contractor on the line, Elizabeth?" a familiar, raspy voice asked, loud enough to be heard on the phone.

Minato clenched his teeth, leaning against the wall. He winced when his shoulder, right where their captive, Yoshino Chidori, had hit him with her axe, flared up painfully. He turned so his back was against the wall instead and turned away from the nurses so he wouldn't have to see their disapproving stares. "A lot of things have changed recently," he began, thinking of a way to convince her, "and I could use your expertise. It sounds like Igor would be busy with other things and I'm not sure if he'd be able to help."

"He always has time for you," Elizabeth assured him immediately. "The Master looks very forward to your visits."

"Indeed! Please inform him that I have a new tarot spread for him to experiment with. His most recent attempts have been very educational!"

Minato sighed. A familiar voice reached him from down the hall, and when he turned to see Mitsuru-senpai talking to some of the doctors, he decided to play his trump card. "I felt like the last time you were out here was a little shy on some things you could have experienced," he told her. "It's not that I don't want to come and visit you and Igor, but there are some food shops that I found that you might like. Specialty shops that sell things that I haven't seen anywhere else."

"...Please continue," she told him in a quieter voice.

Minato smirked. Now he had her attention. "It's a sweets shop, where they sell candy and cakes. I could just bring you some in a bag, but it's the sort of thing you should have while it's still hot, and this way you wouldn't have to share." The last part was a gamble since he had no idea if Igor actually needed food, or had any interest in it like his assistant seemed to, but Elizabeth had seemed to love the sweet sauces when they'd had takoyaki at the strip mall.

It paid off a moment later. "That is very rational thinking. If Margaret were to come to visit, and if she saw that I had wonders like you describe, I'm certain she would fight me for something so exceptional. There is no guarantee that the Velvet Room would survive, and that would ruin the experience of having such delicacies all to myself."

Minato blinked. Who was Margaret? And why would Elizabeth fight her over food? "Right," he continued, trying not to lose his chance, "and this way you could see more of the city. Does that work for you?"

"I find this to be most agreeable, Arisato-sama. How soon would you like this rendezvous to take place?"

Where had she learned that word? The idea of it being a rendezvous, especially since he had classmates who were still pestering him about his "foreign mistress," made him turn a little red. "Tomorrow at 2 in the afternoon." He gave her the necessary directions, making sure they were simple and easy to follow. "I'll meet you there."

"I look forward to this delicious opportunity, Arisato-sama," she purred happily. "Thank you so much for thinking of me to share it with."

"It's no problem," Minato rushed out, looking up as Mitsuru-senpai walked over to him. "I'll see you then." He cut the call and let out a long breath. What was it about that woman that always made him feel like he was throwing the dice on blind odds? All he wanted was to know more about the Shadows and his Personas and how they might link to Strega, and all that it involved was talking to her in person. It shouldn't be that hard of a process. Knowing about her odd fascination only fed his active imagination with ways that things could and would go wrong, but he tried to think positively about the plans he'd made with her. Just because she'd given a fortune to the fountains in the mall and became fixated with the escalators near the train station, he tried to assure himself, didn't mean that this wasn't going to work out. His odds this time were probably fifty-fifty, after all. Just as his temperature was starting to level off, he realized that he hadn't asked her what she was going to be wearing, and he didn't know whether her usual uniform would make her stand out any more than what she'd worn to the mall had. Hopefully it wasn't anything too outrageous.

"Is everything alright?" Mitsuru-senpai asked, looking fresh and clean like she hadn't spent the last two days going through records and talking to detectives and police officials. In fact, she didn't look worse for wear at all, so Minato concluded that she'd finally had a nap like he and Akihiko-senpai had, six times each, told her to.

"I think so, yes," he told her, pocketing his phone and ignoring the dirty looks from the nurses at the nearby station. "I had some ideas about the Shadow that I needed to think over and, well, Junpei said he was going to make a visit today."

"And aside from that?" she asked, her eyebrow raised knowingly. "You've been pushed harder than any of us these last few months, and that's not taking Yoshino into account. Are you recovering and getting enough rest?"

Guilty, but he wasn't going to let her know that he'd spent half of last night staring at his ceiling and listening to his music when the tossing and turning became too boring. He was feeling stretched thin, but he also felt like he needed to keep going and stay active, no matter what that meant. "Are you?" he shot back.

"I'm not the one the Shadows are talking to," she noted. "Fighting against them and Strega is a problem by itself, but we don't know what effect their influence can have on someone."

"I'm keeping a close eye on everything, Senpai," he assured her. "I won't take any chances if I don't need to."

"Good." She pointed to the room Minato was standing across the hall from. "Has Iori arrived yet?"

"Not yet. He should be here soon, though."

Mitsuru-senpai shuffled a little closer, and before she could say anything, Minato reached out to take her hand. She looked at him, surprised, but then a soft smile turned her lips up and she turned her hand towards his, letting him twine his fingers between hers and pull her over next to him. Intent on not giving the nurses more of a reason to throw him out of the hospital, Minato pulled her closer so no one could see him rub his thumb across her knuckles. How could a girl who used swords have such soft skin? She must has used a beauty parlour's worth of moisturizers and creams to keep her hands like that. Minato couldn't imagine her fussing over something like that, however, and, when he thought about it, she very rarely smelled like hand lotion.

"Has anything come from her being here?" Mitsuru-senpai asked after a few moments. "She was very quiet after we arrived and secured her."

"As far as I know, she hasn't said very much," Minato replied, glancing over to the nurses for only a second. "The police left before I got here, but the hospital staff haven't reported anything besides the last incident."

The incident had been when Yoshino Chidori had managed to hide a fork from her breakfast tray and cut her left arm, leaving her with hideous wounds until, right before their eyes, the gouges began to heal without leaving so much as a scratch. Shinjiro-senpai and Ken had mentioned it when everyone had gotten out of class, and while Junpei had wanted to see her, Mitsuru-senpai pulled rank and insisted on questioning her alone. It hadn't gotten her anywhere, but she wasn't the sort to let that stop her.

"Is there a reason why the nurses are looking at you like that?" she asked quietly, looking past him.

Minato chuckled nervously. "They threatened to take my phone away because I was making too many calls."

"I do that all the time," she pointed out, brows furrowed in curiosity. "So does Akihiko. They don't bother us about it, and they shouldn't have bothered you if they knew you were with us."

Of course she'd say that. Well, he had given her a pretty lousy excuse, so it made sense that she'd see through it. "Well... I might have done something to offend them the other day."

She looked at him, an amused smirk on her lips. "Such as?"

Minato exhaled shortly, ready to tear the bandage off and get it over with. "I decided to try my hand with Yoshino. I went in to talk to her when no one else was around."

Her smirk vanished and she pulled her hand away from his so she could turn and look at him square-on with a very hard glare. "Why did you do that?"

Minato let out a puff of air. He knew he'd overstepped his bounds, even as the team leader in the field, but he didn't flinch from her stare or her tone. "I wanted to ask her what she saw about me, and I wanted to know if being out of the Dark Hour would change the things she seemed to feel about me. I thought that she might have picked up something from the Shadow and some time away from it all would make her head clearer."

"That's a logical assumption to make, but I told the hospital staff..." realization lit up her eyes just then. "...to only let people see her if I cleared them first."

Minato smirked without feeling especially funny. "They said the same thing, but I wanted to know for sure."

She crossed her arms and tapped a finger on the inside of her elbow. Her stare was intense enough for him to feel, and it occurred to him that this was the first time he'd ever seen her this upset. "You do realize that I gave the staff those instructions for a reason, don't you? It was for their safety, and for the safety of Iori and anyone else in SEES."

"It was for a good reason, Senpai," he assured her. "And I would have asked, but you were busy."

"I'm never too busy to address something like this, Arisato, and your reasons won't change the fact that you disobeyed my instructions and put everyone in this hospital, including yourself and Yoshino, at risk." This was as close as she'd ever been to giving a formal reprimand, at least for him, and the emphasis on certain words made it clear that she didn't appreciate that it was required.

He'd never seen her glare like this before, much less felt its bite. He took a few seconds to steady both his tongue and his spine. "Sometimes that's necessary," he insisted. He knew he was overstepping his place, but he wasn't about to back down. "Especially with someone like her and her allies. They won't play by our rules, so that means we have to get a bit creative with conventions. I didn't want to risk her doing something before I could talk to her."

Mitsuru-senpai's eyes narrowed and it was easy to see where she was about to go with the argument. Instead of reprimanding him as his senpai and superior, though, she continued her inquiry. "What happened? Did she give you any answers?"

He shook his head. "Not one. She started going crazy as soon as I came in the room. I don't think I'd even turned the corner when she started screaming and trying to get away."

"I don't expect that the nurses took well to that," Mitsuru-senpai mused knowingly.

"They had some words for me once things settled down," he admitted with a shrug. That was an understatement. They'd cornered him and lectured him for close to half an hour under the guise of medical care before he'd played his ace. The frosty silence he got from that made the day especially stand out in his memory.

She let out a thoughtful hum while her eyes narrowed. "Why didn't I hear about this before? If there was an incident with her, then I should have been notified."

"I asked them not to." Minato knew what she'd ask next, so he spilled the rest of the story. "And I made sure I'd overheard some gossip to use as collateral. They might have said something to you otherwise."

Mitsuru-senpai looked at him for a moment before she surprised him with a chuckle. "I wouldn't have expected you to resort to such tactics, but well done."

Minato stood taller and made a show of preening. "I have my moments, thank you."

"Moments is a good way to say it," she needled, tension leaving her frame. "Once in a great while."

"That hurts, Senpai. I really mean it. You're a cruel person."

She chuckled again, louder this time. Minato was expecting her to return a sharply witty remark, but when he looked past her, he saw Junpei coming down the hall, a large notebook and a thin plastic case in his hands. Minato accepted his friend's approach as inevitable – it was why Minato had come early in the first place – but that didn't make the loss of any further chances to banter with his senpai sting any less.

"Hey," Junpei greeted when he was close enough. "You guys don't need to be here, you know. Chidori's not going to do anything."

"She's dangerous, even without her Evoker," Mitsuru-senpai told him, all business. "You remember what Shinjiro told us before?"

"Yeah, and I hear she hasn't done it again."

"Because they've stopped giving her utensils to eat with," Minato pointed out. "That doesn't mean that she won't try something if she thinks of it."

"There's also the matter of her background," Mitsuru-senpai continued. "I've spoken to the police and the Kirijo Group, and we have more information on her."

Junpei looked a little hopeful, but it died off as he sighed. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

Mitsuru-senpai looked like she wanted to say something, but stopped and began a few seconds later. "She's not the sort of person who can be swayed by words and gestures. What she's seen and been through, what she's done, you can't make it go away by visiting her. I know you spent time with her before, but you should know that her past is a very unpleasant one, and that's only based on what we could find. It's in no way comprehensive, so she might have gone through things that we don't know about. Those things might be much worse by comparison."

Junpei's teeth clenched and Minato could see that he was taking Mitsuru-senpai's words badly. "We just want you to know what you're dealing with," he assured his friend. "If you want to talk to her, you're welcome to. You deserve to know the score, and we want you to be careful because there's a lot about her that we can't account for."

"Thanks for the concern," Junpei told them, a set look on his face. "I mean that. But this is what I want to do."

"Can I ask why?" Mitsuru-senpai inquired. "You haven't known her for very long, so is there a reason why you want to help her?"

Minato had some ideas, especially since he remembered what Junpei had said at the festival. Also, he'd recently heard Junpei arguing with his father on the phone and the words "you're wasting your time with her" had been said with a great deal of heat behind them.

Junpei stood, silent, for several moments before he shook his head. "When you put it like that, I'm not sure. I know she attacked us and probably would have killed us if she'd had the chance. I know she tricked me and tied me up, but... I dunno. This is what I want to do, and it feels like the right choice."

While Mitsuru-senpai tilted her head, clearly curious, Minato sighed. He had a feeling it would be something like that, especially given Junpei's behaviour since he'd met the girl. Whether it was a crush, puppy love, or the real thing, there was no stopping him from what he felt, and trying to put a name to it or come up with a rationalization didn't change the desire to pursue it. Minato glanced to his senpai and had to concede that he certainly understood the appeal of a redhead, but he knew that things were going to be far from simple from this point on. "If that's the case, then go ahead and see her," Minato told his friend. "I won't bring it up again."

"Nor will I," Mitsuru-senpai promised.

Junpei looked at them and smiled a little, some tension leaving his body. "Thanks, you guys. That means a lot." He went into Yoshino's room without another word, jubilant greetings loud enough for everyone to hear as soon as he saw her.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Mitsuru-senpai asked her comrade as the door closed. "It's his decision to make and I respect that, but I feel like this is going to become very messy."

"It's his choice," Minato told her as he leaned against the wall again. "Whether it goes well or not, we can't make those decisions for him. To change the subject, Senpai, you're connected with security here, right?"

She gave him a look and raised an eyebrow, clearly curious, and nodded. "That's right. why do you ask?"

"If we know when he's planning on coming to visit, I'll make sure I'm here in case anything happens," he replied, nudging his book bag with his foot. "I don't want to take any chances, and I think I'm the best deterrent we have where she's concerned."

She took a few seconds to answer. "Are you sure you can spare that much time? That's quite a commitment given how often Iori has spoken of her so far."

It was a valid question, given how far the hospital was from the dorm and the school.

"I'll make the time," he replied assuredly. "This is important to him and we can't afford for him to be hurt. I'll make sure he's alright with it so there aren't any problems."

She looked at him, lovely lips pursed and eyes a little narrow. As much as Minato had watched her since April, he couldn't read what she was thinking. That bothered him more than it should have, and he felt the urge to get an answer sooner rather than later. "What does that look mean?"

Mitsuru-senpai smiled a moment later. "You sounded like a graduating student just now, you know. A responsible and respectable senpai looking out for a kouhai while they make it through the hard steps in life."

Minato wasn't expecting that, neither her words nor the admiring look she was giving him. He also wasn't expecting the way his cheeks turned red, then even redder when he swore and tried to keep the reaction down. Her light, bell-like laugh wasn't helping, either.

"It's nothing like that," he insisted awkwardly. "Akihiko-senpai would have done the same thing."

"Because he's a graduating student who looks after his kouhai," she pointed out, giving another laugh when he blushed even more.

"It comes with the territory. That's all." His excuses were getting lamer by the moment.

"I think it's impressive, how far you've come since you got here. We threw you to the wolves with the Shadows and your Personas, but you've come through it all quite well." And just because she hadn't embarrassed him enough yet, he was certain, she reached over and ruffled his hair before he could stop her.

"Senpai!" It was mortifying how his words came out as a whine, but he backed up a step and swatted her hand away so he couldn't follow the impulse to lean into the sensation.

She looked at him, eyes narrow and thoughtful again, before she giggled, actually giggled, and the sound made Minato's heart skip a beat. "I'll entrust Iori to you then, Arisato. So long as you don't neglect your own studies and responsibilities, your plan is the one that we will use."

"Glad you agree," he replied, still embarrassed by how red he was.

She checked her watch before stepping back. "I have a meeting to attend soon. I'll see you at the dorm tonight?"

"I'll be there."

She nodded and turned to walk back down the hallway. Minato intended to grab his books and finish his homework in one of the nearby chairs, but he couldn't help but watch her leave. Was he imagining it, or were her hips swaying more than usual?

He watched her until she turned the corner, and he let out a breath once she did. He had it bad for her, he knew, but several of his Personas pointed out that she would never have played with his hair or giggled like a schoolgirl when he'd first met her. He'd been watching her since the Shadow in the hotel had screwed with his mind and he'd refused to believe the illusions it had shown him. The source of those thoughts and feelings was far too suspect to take at its word. Now, though, he couldn't deny that there might have been some merit to them. He couldn't imagine her ruffling hair with Akihiko-senpai or Shinjiro-senpai, after all, and while that turned him red again he allowed himself to smile without any reservation this time: he had it bad for her, but maybe she had it just as bad for him.

 

* * *

 

"Oh my," Elizabeth said to herself as she looked through the window. "What a sumptuous array of confectionaries. Arisato-sama's taste is beyond compare."

She'd intended to only come to the shop he'd informed her of at the appointed time, but the more she considered it, the more she wanted to come early and explore the area. If there was a shop of such prestige in this district that Arisato-sama thought of it specifically to show her, then logic dictated that there should be other such exceptional edifices of commerce in close proximity. Her mind made up and her reasoning sound, she put enough money in her wallet to cover even the most exquisite of purchases and also brought along a small sack of gemstones that the Master assured her were of unmatched monetary value. Should her paper yen bills prove insufficient, she had a perfect alternative. Doubly so if she stopped to appease the water spirits again; her luck since that day had been without compare.

It was still four hours before she was set to meet with Arisato-sama, but that only gave her more time to reconnoitre the area. She'd even chosen her attire with the intent to blend in again, forgoing her blue dress and cap like she'd worn last time she'd been privileged with an outing with the young Contractor. This time she'd decided to wear shoes with adorable little buckles on the tops, a skirt that went to her knees with a slit halfway up the side, a front-tied top with a short jacket like what she'd worn before, and, because she'd never tried it before, a very colourful scrap of cloth around her hair. To her knowledge, it was called a bandana. She'd never had her belly and legs so liberated, and the feel of the wind was delicious on her skin.

"Pardonnez-moi madame!" someone called from nearby. "Pardon me, but I must ask, s'il vous plaît, where you found such magnifiques vêtements."

Elizabeth turned to see a lovely-looking blond young man approaching her while holding a Japanese fan. If the badge on his jacket was indeed accurate, then he was a student at Arisato-sama's school. "Are you talking to me, sir? Were you commenting on my clothes?"

"Yes, yes I was! Oh belle Japon, ces merveilles que vous me montrent, to have such an opportunity as this must be fate, yes?"

He seemed quite excited by her attire, enough so that he was tripping over himself and speaking quite fast. In spite of that, Elizabeth couldn't help but appreciate that her wardrobe was receiving such attention. The stranger's admiration and the looks other people were giving her made knowing that she'd made the right selection all the more exquisite. "It pleases me that you find them pleasurable. Might I ask who you are?"

"Of course, of course, my manners go me when I need them most. Truly though, you are Japanese, yes? Your taste is, as we say in France, parfait! I am called Andre Laurent Jean Geraux, but if that is, how do they use, cumbersome to say, I have been called Bebe by my contemporaries at school."

"Andre Laurent Jean Geraux," Elizabeth repeated, complete with the accent and inflections just as he'd said them. It was quite a simple matter. Did the other students truly have difficulty with it? "It's not a problem at all. Actually, it is a most serviceable name."

"Ahh, mon cher, to hear my name spoken as such is a pleasure beyond compare. Please, tell me, what shall I call you?"

"I am Elizabeth, Andre Laurent Jean Geraux. It is a pleasure to meet you."

His responding bow was deeper than other people had given her so far. "The pleasure is mine. Might I ask what you are doing here? This shop serves the finest sweets on the island. Were you hoping to partake?"

"I was, but I am also meeting someone here in some time, and I didn't want to be late. It is quite important that I be available to him when he arrives."

Her new friend nodded knowingly. He seemed to appreciate the importance of her meeting. What a wonderful fellow, to agree with her preferences before she'd even expressed them. "I see, I see. This person, he is important to you?"

Beyond her ability to appropriately say, but her new friend was being most accommodating, so she would try. "Of course. Arisato-sama is as precious to me as the Papacy is to a pious bishop, or perhaps as valuable as the ocean is to all the fish within it. He is very special, you see."

"Arisato-sama!?" he shouted, a wide grin brightening his already luminescent features. "Please, pray tell, do you mean Arisato Minato-sama? About this tall with particulièrement unique indigo hair?"

"That is his name. And his hair is that colour, yes. Do you know him?"

Andre Laurent Jean Geraux fluttered his fan excitedly. Where had he gotten such a fetching ornament? Elizabeth couldn't help but watch it and suddenly want a collection of them for herself. Margaret would be most intrigued by them the next time she visited. "Ahh, I do indeed!" he replied. "Arisato-sama has given me much advice and direction while I have been residing here, and his dedication toward aiding me in finding my way, well, I could not have done anything without him. If you are waiting for him, shall I join you? Perhaps I can show you to his classroom later so you are certain not to miss him."

Elizabeth mulled it over. The plan had merit, but... "We had made plans to meet here. Wouldn't he be displeased if I am not here when he arrives?"

"This is a small chance of happening, I think. Minato-sama is extrêmement dedicated, always attending his classes and helping others. Even if he should miss you here, there is no way, aucune façon à tous, that he would miss you at school."

This was true. The Contractor was uncanny in a wide variety of ways, and Andre Laurent Jean Geraux's logic was quite sound. That he appreciated Arisato-sama's exceptionalness convinced her all the more that it was the right choice. "I see. I find this to be an acceptable compromise. Do you partake in the goods of this shop regularly, Andre Laurent Jean Geraux?"

"Much, much times Elizabeth-sama. Please allow me to show you the best choices."

She bowed in return, glad to have made such a helpful friend. "Please do, Andre Laurent Jean Geraux."

 

* * *

 

"Got a problem, Arisato?" a student asked him, perched on the edge of his table. She was tall, thin, and sported a tan that she clearly expected people to notice and compliment. To Minato it looked as fake as the stones in her earrings, especially since her skin had nothing on Mitsuru-senpai's natural look.

Minato paused in jamming buttons on his phone to shoo her away before looking at the others who had dropped by the student council office to pester him. That was the best way to think of it since nothing ever really came of their discussions. The students who were still sore about his success in the sparring ring and jealous of his continued close contact with his senpai and Yukari at the dorm would drop in every now and again to try and needle him into a reaction. This wasn't the first time it had happened, and Minato saw it as a break in the piles of paperwork that Mitsuru-senpai was being sent rather than as a real problem. If it became one, he'd just invite them to another duel. "Not at all. Just looking at my stocks and life insurance rates. With what they put in imported food these days, you can't be too careful."

He'd said it off the cuff, but when he thought about it he did wonder how his insurance brokers would react if they knew about the risks he and the others were taking every other night. Their rates would probably skyrocket in a second.

"They must be doing badly if you're checking them this often," Ms. Fake-tan pointed out archly, preening at the laughter of those around her.

Minato looked at her audience, an eyebrow raising slowly. Really? That was all it took to make someone laugh these days? In that case, maybe he would add "Comedian" to his list of future career choices. It seemed like the bar was pretty low. "On the contrary. They're doing so well that I'm taking pictures so that my bank will believe me when I cash them in," he shot back, checking his phone one more time. "You know how they can be about handing a billion yen over to high school students." His jokes aside, he was getting frustrated. He'd gone to meet Elizabeth two days ago and she hadn't shown up. He'd asked the clientele and poked around the other shops, hoping for any information on where she'd gone, and the best he got was some people saying that they might have seen someone like her but couldn't be sure. That Minato had been forced to ask about her while describing her usual attire as well as whatever she might have actually been wearing, a key detail he was missing, didn't help in the least. If anything, it only seemed to confuse everyone he asked. Talking to Igor hadn't helped other than to say that she hadn't returned, and once that was out of the way the hook-nosed little man had wanted to experiment with new fusion techniques. The phone number she'd given him went straight to voicemail, and it was getting harder to hide his irritation, not only at the questions he had that weren't being answered but at the nagging ramifications of her being loose on the town with no supervision.

He tried to tell himself that she could handle any problems that might come up, that she'd get her fill of sightseeing and go back to the Velvet Room when she was satisfied. He also tried to tell himself that she wouldn't mention him by name if anyone asked who she was. He hoped that his odds weren't actually as bad as he feared.

"Was there something you needed? Aside from being in my radiant presence, that is," he inquired as he closed his phone and skimmed through some forms before signing them and putting them in the correct piles. "That's a good reason for anyone to stop by. But if you want tips on being like me, I'll have to charge you for them. Business is business, after all."

"Wouldn't we be the ones charging for you to talk to us?" a rather handsome and vain student asked, his hand resting on the pocket where he probably carried his mirror. "That's worth something for someone in your year, you know."

"In a different world, maybe," Minato replied smoothly. "But you came to visit me on your own. How much more would that be worth than just talking to you in the hall? Not that I blame you for wanting to talk to me, of course. It's only natural."

"Your humour's cute, Arisato," a broad student from the baseball team commented with a smile as flat as a table. "But don't get a long nose over it; you'll ruin your good looks."

"You never know. Some girls are into that. I know an elderly fellow who has a very long nose and he's around beautiful girls all the time, so it can't be that bad of a look."

"An old man with a long nose, girls all around him," the student scoffed. "Right. Every guy knows someone like that. And you have a girlfriend in China that doesn't have a name and hasn't sent you a picture, but you're definitely not single, right?"

Minato had to bite his tongue, but didn't bother hiding the smirk. Oh, if only they knew. They could make all the jokes they wanted, but if word got to them that he and Mitsuru-senpai were becoming an item, he'd need to carry his shinai with him all the time. "I'm sorry, personal information about yours truly is private and available only with a cash incentive. If you'd like to know something else, which is why I'm certain you're here, then I might be more amenable. So go ahead and tell me: to what do I owe this visit?"

"We were wondering about Kirijo-san and Yukari-san," Vanity asked, an eyebrow arched and a cold smile on his face. "They both seem pretty happy these days. Kirijo-san especially."

"That does seem to be the case," Minato agreed, looking at them with a blank gaze. "Shouldn't that be a good thing? If you ask me, it's very good if they are happy since, well, everyone deserves a chance to be like that. It makes my job easier, I can tell you that much."

Fake-tan snickered loudly, covering her mouth as though such a gesture would make the sound less annoying. "Do you get all your lines from fortune cookies, Arisato? That was seriously lame."

"Of course," Minato shot back with barely a glance her way. "Where do you think the fortune cookie companies get all that wisdom? It's not just lying around for people to pick up, I'll have you know. If you're interested in working for them, I could talk to some people. The profit-sharing program is excellent."

"They are happy," Vanity mentioned, stepping forward a step, "but the question is why they are this happy. Yukari-san is sunny no matter what, but she seems especially upbeat for some reason. It's been like that for sixteen days now."

Yukari was pretty cheery most days, Minato conceded. Except for when she ran the shower out of hot water. Then she was downright crabby. Poor girl, no hot water in the shower because she used it all up. That was... just wrong.

"But Kirijo-san's always professional and focuses on her studies," Vanity continued. "She's busy with work and very dedicated, but she's been smiling a lot more lately. Some people say she's even been humming to herself in the hallways."

Really? Minato hadn't heard that, but he was suddenly very curious about what her singing voice was like. He'd have to keep an ear open for it around the dorm. "Sounds like they're having a good time doing whatever they're doing," Minato commented, looking over a few more papers and filing them. "I'm not sure what it would be since they're aren't really into the same things, but in that case it's probably just good timing. They enjoyed being at the festival a while back, so maybe they're still coasting on the high."

"Someone said that you were there with them," Vanity noted, narrowing his eyes like he'd caught Minato in a lie.

Which he hadn't. Everyone at the festival was technically there with them.

"They invited me out, so I accepted the offer and went with them." There were some suspicious looks and increasingly hostile stares being directed his way. Much as Minato would have liked to invite them to the sparring ring again, he had promised Senpai that he'd try to be diplomatic when dealing with his "bullying problem." He'd chafed a bit when she worded it like that, but it had been good experience so far. Minato continued, speaking slowly like he was explaining the obvious to a particularly thick classmate. "We do live in the same dorm, after all. We do things together. We get along. Sometimes, and keep up with me here, we even go out to festivals or parties together so we know someone there. That's it."

"I heard that you have some new people there," Vanity declared, trying another point. "One of them's a criminal from the streets, isn't he?"

A criminal? Minato suddenly wanted to record the conversation on his phone. Both Shinjiro-senpai and Akihiko-senpai would probably love to have a chat with this guy for a line like that. "I wouldn't go that far. Shinjiro-senpai is–"

"A homeless street thug," Vanity cut in bluntly. "It's okay, you can say it. But since you're living with them, make sure that no one touches Yukari-san or Kirijo-san, understand? Especially not him."

Minato had to bite his tongue at the idea of the mob that might form if he told them Mitsuru-senpai and Shinjiro-senpai not only knew each other, but had lived in the same dorm years ago. He could already imagine how little Shinjiro-senpai would care and how little effort he'd exert breaking that mob over his knee. "You guys really have the wrong idea about him. He's a dick to everyone around him, sure, but calling him a criminal is pushing it."

"You don't sound like you like him very much. Why defend him?"

Minato could admit that he didn't get along with the newest member of the team. Shinjiro-senpai might have been older and possessed a lot of experience, but that didn't make being around him when he was barking at everyone particularly fun. Still, him being slandered by a bunch of know-nothings was lower than he deserved. "He has his strengths," Minato replied diplomatically, smiling dryly. "He can take out gangs on his own, for starters. He's also friends with Akihiko-senpai, and I'm pretty sure he can bench-press a car. Nasty temper on him, too. He hates it when people talk crap about things they don't know, too."

Several of the students went pale a looked a bit sick at that last one.

"I doubt he's interested in anyone at the dorm though. He doesn't talk much."

"Either way, it's your job to make sure Yukari-san and Kirijo don't associate with him," Vanity told him imperiously. "They might catch something."

Unlikely. But Minato was wondering if bigotry and stupidity were contagious, and whether he should ask about a vaccination the next time he went to the hospital. "Sure. I guess. But you don't have to worry about anything where Kirijo-senpai and Yukari are concerned; they can look after themselves." That seemed to mollify some of the sharper looks coming his way.

"Well, it's not we have to worry about Arisato getting anywhere with Yukari-san anyway," Fake-tan mentioned offhandedly. "I mean, she was at the festival by herself, right? She must know that she can do better."

"I guess so," Minato responded, not rising to the insult. He had too many good memories of the festival to let the local rumour mill spoil them. "She could have any guy she wants, after all, so it's not like she'd go for the transfer student, right? Probably an actor or a musician or something, someone at the top of their game who looks good on camera." It was partly true. The few times he'd seen into her room while talking to her, he'd seen posters on her wall of some actors from her favourite shows, and it wouldn't hurt to toss a bit of truth into the mix so the kids didn't get more suspicious.

"She can indeed do better than you, Arisato," Vanity told him, trying for another dig. "I'm glad you agree."

"Wait!" a short, shrill girl demanded. "The festival from a few weeks ago? Yukari-san was there?"

Was that such an odd thing? "That's right," Minato confirmed. "Why?"

"You know who else was there? Hayase Mamoru!"

Minato blinked owlishly, needing a few seconds while the girls around his desk shrieked and squealed. The guys either shook their heads or groaned. Vanity brushed at his hair as though the name wasn't supposed to bother him but clearly did. Where had Minato heard that name before? Hayase... Hayase... "You mean the star runner? The guy who only wears his track suit and doesn't have any other clothes?"

"You didn't see him there?" the gossip demanded, talking in two-minute miles. "If he was there, then you'd know him right away. He's that dreamy, like, almost as much as Akihiko-senpai!"

Minato sighed. Of course he was expected to know what the guy looked like even though he'd only seen him twice and heard rumours from the sports teams. Because he spent so much time poking around into everyone else's business. "How am I supposed to know? I don't even know what he looks like, and I didn't go there to gawk at guys."

"But Yukari-san probably did!" the girl insisted, an obsessed look in her eyes that bordered on manic. "Hayase-senpai's handsome and smart, dedicated, almost famous, and he's always really friendly. They'd be perfect for each other, so I bet they were getting together for a secret rendezvous!"

Minato paled. He'd meant to deflect the attention from himself, but he hadn't meant for it to go this far in the other direction. When he thought of how Yukari would respond to people spreading rumours about her, especially rumours that painted her as hooking up with some guy she might not even know, all he could see was mushroom clouds. "No," he protested as vehemently as he could. "No she wasn't. You seriously have the wrong idea. She's not going out with anyone. She wouldn't have the time even if she wanted to."

"Says the guy who just lives with her," Vanity pointed out triumphantly, grinning like he'd finally found the flaw in Minato's armour. "She'd run circles around you, so it would be easy for her to arrange something on the side without you or anyone knowing. And Hayase's definitely a cut above you, so he'd be perfect for her. Almost as perfect as me."

"Man, Hayase Mamoru," one of the students mused. "I want to hate him, but it's hard to, y'know? He's good people and always gives advice to the juniors when he's at competitions."

"You should ask him for lessons on that, Arisato."

"Let's go and ask Yukari-san!" the gossip gushed. "I want to know when they started going out! I bet it was just dreamy!"

"Hold on guys," Minato protested, "that's not... the case..."

They all turned and left, some running and chatting with every student they came across, others just walking along and nodding in confirmation when the incredulous "Takeba Yukari and Hayase Mamoru?!" question was asked.

Minato let out a long, slow breath, slumping back in his chair and tapping the surface as his outstretched hand fell to the table. Trying to predict just how large of a catastrophe this was going to create when he got home, he thought through the possible outcomes. There was no way that his name wasn't going to end up being mentioned, but maybe Yukari would see that as proof of him not being behind it at all. That said, she had been pretty harsh on other rumours in the past when it came to making insinuations about her virtue and her love life. He and Junpei had needed to back her up on the fly when she'd gotten the bit in her teeth about two months ago. It ended with the guys in question on the ground and Yukari buying the pair ramen as thanks, but it had been a good reminder to Minato that she did have a rough side when her feathers got ruffled.

"That's great," he told himself with a disgusted sigh. It wouldn't have been so bad if the little blabbermouth had just gone to talk to Yukari directly, but from the way she was stopping to talk to every person in the hallway, they wouldn't make it to the archery range before classes resumed. By that point the number of people spreading the rumour would be a lot more than just the people in the group.

Minato sighed, almost loud enough to cover the sound of the door behind him opening. "She's going to kill me."

"Why is that?" a familiar voice asked, accompanied by the sound of boots approaching. "I assume you mean Takeba."

Minato nodded, giving an irritated "mm hm" to Mitsuru-senpai's question while she came around his chair. "Kids with nothing better to do are spreading around the idea that she's hooking up with a guy on the side," he told her as he tilted his head back to look at her. "Odds are they are going to say that I gave them proof, and Yukari's going to hit the ceiling when she gets to the dorm."

Senpai came around to stand beside him, arms cross and a thoughtful frown on her face. "That is unfortunate. What did you say? You're not the sort to slip up like that."

He grunted, sucking air through his teeth. "I said that we were at the festival at the same time. That's it. They filled in the rest by themselves and blew it way out of proportion." He glared down the hallway at the group that, to no surprise, had stopped again to talk about their juicy bit of news. "Spreading slander like it's gospel. That should be illegal, Senpai. I don't suppose you could do something about it, could you?"

She didn't respond for a few seconds, and just as Minato was about to look at her again, she ran the fingers of both hands through his hair and ruffled it. "Spreading rumours about your classmates is quite an egregious offence, Arisato-san," she mocked, following him when he tried to move away from her. "I expect better from someone on the Student Council. What will people say if they think I was involved with it, hmmm? Maybe I should reprimand you for it."

"Get outta here, Senpai," he groused, ducking forward and swatting at her hands. It didn't bother him as much when she did that as he showed, but with his hair it was impossible for it to not look like someone had played with it. "It wasn't my idea in the first place, and that's an abuse of your position. Hidetoshi would be up in arms if he knew."

"You're not going to tattle on me, are you?" she asked in a surprisingly good facsimile of hurt feelings. "This is, after all, just a requisite part of the position that you signed up for," she told him with her nose in the air. "I'm just acting as any responsible president of the Student Council would."

Minato smirked and narrowed his eyes. "I'll believe you when you can say that with a straight face, Senpai. You can't pull it off at all."

She gasped and stared at him with wide eyes, smacking him across the shoulder. "You should be ashamed, Arisato! Talking to your senpai like that, and a lady as well. Now I'm the one who will be speaking to Odagiri-san about your conduct."

"Feel free. He likes me," Minato shot back, unable to keep the smile down. It was fun to see his Senpai, so uptight and particular about the details when he'd met her, joking and playing around with him. The gossips had been right about one thing: she had seemed happier lately. "And stop playing with my hair. It's the way it is for a reason."

"I'm allowed to," she told him confidently, turning to lean on his desk. This allowed her to sidle in a little closer as well as not show her smile to anyone who passed by. "I have special dispensation from you that lets me do what I want."

"That only applies to me, you know," he warned, his smile starting to come back. It was conceited of him to think it, but he liked to believe that her good mood of late had been largely due to their closer association. The timing worked out quite nicely and it did further justify him spending time with her. "If you try that with some other guy, I'd get pretty jealous. I might even have to step in and defend your honour."

She raised an eyebrow and smiled a little. "I may want to see that someday."

"Don't tempt me."

She gave a telling, playful "hmmm" before taking a breath. "Don't worry about Takeba. She's adaptable, and she'll understand when you explain it to her. This wouldn't be the first time that there have been rumours spread about her."

"That's looking at it logically," Minato replied, getting comfortable in his chair when he was sure she wouldn't go for his hair again. "She'll get over it in a while, sure, but she's not going to be happy when she gets home. I'm going to have to pay her back somehow, and who knows if she'll even accept an apology."

"You can use your standing as my assistant if you need to," she replied calmly. "I'll protect you. I'd be without your services if she permanently damaged you, after all, and that would inconvenience me."

Inconvenience. His lack of services, possibly due to a raging roommate taking her scissors and arrows to him, was judged severe enough to be ranked alongside having to clean one's boots of dirt. "Thanks for your support, Senpai. You're all heart."

The first bell went off and Minato filed his paperwork with a sigh. Well, it couldn't be worse than the argument they'd had in the hotel. It was hard to imagine anything that would be, really. As he was about to push his chair back, Mitsuru-senpai rested her hand on his shoulder and, in a rather unobjective way, rubbed back and forth in the same motion she'd used for his hair. The warmth of the gesture went right through his coat and shirt, giving his shoulder tingles. Rather than just let her get away with it, he reached up and put his hand on hers, stroking the back of it. She looked down at him, a bit surprised, but he smiled and winked at her. She chuckled before stepping back and leaving the Student Council room to go back to class.

Minato smiled and resisted the urge to give a fistpump. It would have been undignified, but he still wanted to when he saw her smile and noticed how, just like in the hospital, there was more strut to her walk than usual.

She'd gotten him, but it definitely wasn't a one-way street now. He was looking forward to whatever her next move was, and went back to his classroom with a smile on his face. More than one student asked why he was in a good mood while he passed by, and his response every time was "no reason" in a tone that clearly stated the contrary.

He left the school in a good mood, making sure to text Yukari about the new rumour circulating about her. He ended his message with the comment "As much as it might sound like it came from me, I promise you that I mostly didn't have much to do with it." While she at least gave him the chance to explain himself when they met at the dorm, and seemed to understand the situation, she was broodingly silent for the rest of the night. Minato noted, when he went to school the next day, that the girls who had been so eager to spread the rumours made themselves very scarce. He was certain that a few poked their heads around corners and lockers to gauge Yukari's mood, then swiftly scurried away when they saw the black clouds around her. Minato pointed out a few of the perpetrators to his companion so that she'd have a few targets for her ire that weren't him.

Much as Minato was amused by Yukari snapping at several of her classmates for asking about Hayase, however, and as fun as it was to point the finger when others asked him what had happened to her good mood, he found himself infected by her anger. By lunchtime he was back to where he'd been before Senpai's appearance: waiting on Elizabeth and getting even more frustrated by her lack of a response. He was almost ready to throw his phone out the window when he thought of how little progress he was making on what should have been a simple set of questions.

"You competing with Yuka-tan on how many people you can scare away?" Junpei asked around a mouthful of noodles. "It's like you two woke up on the wrong side of the same bed this morning."

Minato pinched the bridge of his nose when some nearby students turned to tune in to their conversation. "Please don't word it like that. There are enough misunderstandings going around as it is." One of which had been brought up when Fuuka came over to ask him how he liked his lunch. She'd been getting better at cooking and asked if she could, in a platonic sense, make him lunch now and again so she could improve. Minato had given her his blessing, but, as was becoming common, the classmates nearby missed the "platonic" part and immediately assumed that he was seeing Fuuka on the side. He'd had to ask the people spreading those rumours to stop in an especially nice tone before they respected his wishes. The stupidity behind it didn't make it any less irritating, though. Did no one in this school have anything better to do than spread rumours around? One would think they believed that spreading more ridiculous rumours would make them real somehow. "Just be grateful that your friend doesn't attend classes here or you'd be right in the mix with us."

"My friend?" Junpei asked, tilting his head a little before his eyes lit up in understanding. "Ahhh. Yeah, I see what you mean."

As much fun as it might have been to imagine Yoshino coming to their school to visit Junpei or kill Minato, red hair and white dress and blood-spattered axes and all, Minato wasn't going throw his friend under the bus. He didn't need the company. "How are things going with her?"

"They're... well, they're going, I guess. You don't have to always be at the hospital, you know. I've got it under control."

"I trust you, but it's Senpai's orders." It wasn't completely a lie. Mitsuru-senpai had encouraged his decision once he'd explained his reasons behind it, even if the explanation had been after Junpei started making regular hospital visits. "Until we're more sure about her friends and whether they'll stop by for a visit, she wants me there for back-up. I'll make sure Yoshino doesn't know I'm there."

"I guess you have a point," Junpei hedged, shifting around in his chair. "But I'm not sure if... well, I dunno. Not sure what I'm trying to say."

Minato leaned back in his chair after glancing around the room to make sure none of the gossips with big mouths and good hearing were nearby. "Are things going alright?"

"Maybe. She spends a lot of her time drawing, and she only shows me when she wants to creep me out. Sometimes it feels like there's something more than just her calling me an idiot and ignoring me, though, like I'm getting through to her. Maybe I'm imagining it."

"You should keep at it," Kenji told them from across the aisle, leaning forward with a smile. "Girls usually call guys idiots if they just can't be honest with their real feelings."

"Or if they think that they really are idiots and want them to go away," Minato pointed out. Kenji wasn't ideal for giving great advice, but he at least had enough of his own secrets to know when to keep his mouth shut.

Kenji waved the response off. "Nah, you've gotta think like a girl, Arisato. They love being chased and keeping a guy's interest, and the best way to do that is to make them work for every inch. Older girls and women are like that all the time."

"We're talking about someone who is the same age as us," Minato mentioned, keeping to himself that Kenji's advice up to now had been more caveat than cream. "I'm not sure your logic applies here."

"Sure it does. Girls our age become older over time, and they have to start practicing those techniques when they're young. It makes sense when you think of it that way, right? What you're seeing is just a girl who is trying the ropes out and getting into the groove. She hasn't perfected the art yet."

Junpei was, thankfully, looking more doubtful than convinced. "This girl's kinda different," he told his friend slowly. "She's not really normal, so a lot of the rules don't really apply to her."

"You should buy her stuff," Kenji insisted. "Every girl loves having a guy buy her stuff, especially if he knows what she likes without being told."

Minato had to concede that that, at least, did sound like good advice. Particularly since he was planning on taking some time and stopping by the shop that Misturu-senpai had been looking at during their trip to the windmills.

"Maybe," Junpei concluded. "Not sure what she'd like, but maybe I'll try that. Don't expect much though; we're not super close or anything."

"You've gotta start somewhere," Kenji told him with a grin on his face. "Let me know if you need any more advice. I'll keep my prices reasonable."

Or, Minato thought, he could just blackmail Kenji for anything he needed. That approach sounded much better, and had a higher chance of making sure that everything that was private stayed that way.

"Thanks," Junpei told him. "I'll think about it."

"You might have some competition, Tomochika," an older student told their friend as he walked over from the door. "Arisato seems like he has the market cornered when it comes to girls, so maybe you should be listening to his advice instead of offering your own."

"That's a fiction," Minato replied, backing away from the others to check his phone again. Still nothing from Elizabeth. "You make it sound like I have my own harem on speed dial. Which I don't."

"You say that but it's pretty hard to believe you when your girls follow you to school," the student told him with a triumphant smirk. "That makes it sound a lot closer to the truth."

A careless look up was all Minato could be bothered to give the student, senior or not. "What are you talking about?"

"Your foreigner. She's here, right now."

Minato stiffened like he'd been poked with live jumper cables.

"Blonde, this tall, talks with an accent?" the student continued smugly, speaking loud enough to gain them an audience. "If you want to hit up women on the side, that's fine, but it's bad taste to bring her to school and then forget about her. What will the others say?"

Minato stood up, ignoring that he was at school while he stepped up to the student with a hard glare. The sort he reserved for Shadows. "Where is she?"

"That's just pathetic, Arisato. Why didn't you–"

"Where. Is. She?"

The student blinked, not expecting the intensity in his eyes. "Th... the art room. She's been there since– hey!"

Minato bolted from the room, sprinting through the halls to get there. Running with Akihiko-senpai and racing Koromaru for kicks all paid off as he dodged around students and turned the corner to the stairs. Why was she here? Rather than go around a group at the bottom, he jumped the rail of the landing and hit the floor, thankfully clear, by the student store. How had she made it here? Ignoring the shouts from hallways monitors and senior students, he ran to the art room, his heart both racing and heavy from dread. Why hadn't she told him or responded to his calls? What was going on?

He grabbed the door and whipped it open, not caring about decorum. "Why didn't you answer your phone Eliz... a... beth..." Minato stopped, arms falling to his side, when he saw the inside of the art room. When he saw what she'd done.

All along the walls was a single, unbroken series of figures. Tall, small, monochrome, colourful, they came in all flavours. Some were so complex that he could barely tell what they were while others were clearly supernatural in origin. Those ones were, Minato found with heightening disbelief, painfully familiar. Personas. Angels. Heroes. Gods and demons, all melding together yet distinct enough to tell where one ended and the next began. She'd covered a wall and a half with a continuous mural of the inhabitants of his soul. What was worse, those very inhabitants were twisting and roiling under the surface, seeming to resonate with their depictions and raising enough noise in his head that he was certain everyone else could hear them.

Elizabeth herself was standing on a stool near the windows across from him, hand moving furiously as she brought definition and life to a pale, human-like figure that looked like an angel but had too many wings. When one of the students near her greeted him, she spun to face him, showing him how she looked in an apron while paint smears decorated her face and her hands. "Arisato-sama!" she cried happily, setting her paints down and running over to him. "Andre Laurent Jean Geraux was right! I'm very pleased that you found me. As you can see, I have been most productive with my time, but I'm afraid that my project will take several days to complete. If I might be so bold as to be honest with you, I am a little disappointed that you are here. I was hoping to show you my masterpiece when it is finished."

"Elizabeth..." Minato began, looking for his words and trying to string them together into some form of coherence. "What are you doing?"

"I am painting, Arisato-sama," she said with a clear measure of glee. "The local art instructor invited me to practice my craft, as she called it, when she saw some of the works I completed the other day. I felt that this might be a fitting tribute to you and your importance, or rather, it will be an adequate one when it is complete."

Minato was becoming painfully aware of the people in the hall who were looking in to see what the fuss was about. The students in the art room who were already whispering to each other about Elizabeth's use of his name, and his use of hers without any honorifics. "How long have you been here?" he asked trying to get a semblance of control over the situation. "I went to the sweets shop but I couldn't find you."

That, of course, sent the students buzzing. Arisato seeing a girl at a sweets shop? Was it that sweets shop? He must like her; that place is expensive!

"I was there early, Arisato-sama, but then a classmate of yours said that I would find you if I came here. His reasoning was sound, and so here I am. I hope that this hasn't caused you any inconvenience."

"You haven't answered your phone. I've been calling since yesterday." Minato winced when he thought of how that would sound. Of course people would think that she was his squeeze if he said that he had her number.

"I'm afraid that the battery is drained, Arisato-sama. I apologize for the inconvenience, but I was researching subjects to paint at the time. The decision was not an easy one to make, I'd like to say. Had you been here, however, I could have used you as the ideal specimen."

Her wording, like always, was doing an excellent job of inspiring misunderstandings. "If you had contacted me, though, you wouldn't be able to surprise me with what you were doing, would you?"

"Arisato," Mitsuru-senpai greeted him from behind.

Minato wilted. He wanted to die just then. The attention and rumours he could handle, but Mitsuru-senpai showing up to meet Elizabeth had been something he'd very much wanted to avoid.

"What is going on?" she asked as she entered, eyes widening when she looked around. Of course she would know what the mural was depicting. "Someone told me you were running through the hallways, so I thought I would inquire. Who might this be? Is she a friend of yours?"

"Hello," Elizabeth greeted his senpai before he could say anything. "Arisato-sama is my Contractor, and I aim to fulfill his every wish and desire if it is within my power. I don't believe that we've met, but I sense that you work with him. It is a very great pleasure to meet you."

Mitsuru-senpai stepped past him and looked at the mural more closely, taking it all in before turning and bowing politely to Elizabeth. "That is correct. He and I are friends, and we have worked together since he arrived in April. I am Kirijo Mitsuru, and it is a pleasure to meet you as well."

It was clear that she was doctoring her words for the benefit of the students around her, but Minato couldn't help but think there was some underlying tension growing tighter with every moment.

"A lovely and fitting name," Elizabeth gushed, coming closer. "I am Elizabeth. My master desired that I serve Arisato-sama, who asked that I join him in a rendezvous several days ago. He felt that my experiences here would be best expanded upon with an education in sweets and treats."

Minato gave up just then. He threw in the towel and wanted to crawl into the deepest hole he could make. He couldn't face his Senpai and would have been out the front doors by now if there weren't a wall of students clogging up the door.

"Is that so? That's very interesting."

Minato shivered at the clipped tone of her voice.

"Yes, he did. On that topic, Arisato-sama, will you require my services at this time? I would like to complete my tribute to you at my earliest opportunity, but I am ready and able to serve you now should you require me to."

Minato looked around at his classmates, from the guys making crude gestures or gawking at her to the girls staring at the mural or whispering and pointing. He thought things had been bad when Yukari was the centre of attention, or when people had seen Elizabeth at the mall and started coming up with stupid ideas about her. This took the cake, and there was no way that this wasn't going to haunt him for the rest of his time at Gekkoukan High. If the firm stance of Mitsuru-senpai's body was any indication, he hadn't even seen the tip of the iceberg but his ship was already taking on water. "Let's do that," he said after several moments of morbid contemplation. If he was staring at the executioner's block, he may as well make the walk with a measure of dignity. "I just have a few questions, and I wouldn't want to take you away from your project for too long."

"I appreciate your consideration," she gushed. "I hadn't thought that portraiture could be so engrossing, but I have become quite fond of it. Do you think that the Master will appreciate it? Perhaps enough to let met keep it? Could you speak to him on my behalf? He listens more to your requests and desires than he does to me, you see."

"I'm... sure he will."

"I'm glad that you have made such colourful friends, Arisato," Mitsuru-senpai told him as she looked at the mural in greater detail. "Also, if you could join me in the sparring circle after classes are done, I would appreciate it. Once you are done speaking to Elizabeth-san, that is."

Even if it sounded like a friendly request, there was no way he had a choice in the matter. He had visions of her chasing him on her motorcycle if he decided to run. "I... Yes, Senpai. That's not a problem."

"Wonderful. It was a pleasure meeting you, Elizabeth-san. We should arrange for a meeting when we both have more time."

"That would be most agreeable, Kirijo-san. I look forward to it."

Minato tried not to think about what such a meeting might bring about, and made a note to be on the other side of the city when it did happen.

He talked to Elizabeth with what little privacy he could manage, getting the answers to what questions he could remember and leaving the rest for another time. The remaining classes were a write-off due to the sheer number of stares he was getting, no matter what the teachers tried. Minato's mind was a million miles away and it was with a measure of resignation that he went to the gym after the last bell. To no surprise, there was quite an audience in the sparring ring, everyone ready to place bets and watch the match. Or see Mitsuru-senpai in her fighting clothes again which, Minato had to admit, were even lovelier than before.

Lovely or not though, she was clearly ready for a proper fight. "I hope you will take this seriously," she told him as he passed her to get his gear. "I'm looking forward to a strong effort on your part."

Minato was certain that he was being punished for keeping Elizabeth a secret, but as much as he wanted to lock himself in his room and get the day over with, he also respected Senpai enough to give her what she wanted. She'd know if he held back on her, and more to the point she'd probably make him regret it. He changed into his pads and looked in the change room mirror, took a stabilizing breath, and felt a cold, familiar smile cross his lips. No, holding back wasn't going to happen. He'd learned a few tricks since the last time they'd tussled, after all, and he was ready to fight like he meant it. He wanted to win this time. He picked up his practice sabre and went out to meet her.

They gave each other the courtesy of a salute, but then leaped at each other with swords in hand. There was no counting points or calling hits. No gentry or even the pretence of courtesy. They were fighting, pure and simple. Their sword rang and clashed through the room, enough to deafen them to the cheering and jeering.

Nothing else existed. Nothing else mattered. Just Minato and his beautiful, blood-haired Senpai who sprang at him like a hunting cat. Unlike last time, she lunged and drove at him with a fervour that reminded him of how she fought the Shadows. She tried to corner him and finish him off as fast, eyes alight and an honest-to-gods grin on her face while she put her arm into her strikes.

Her perfect little teeth and the cute shape of her eyebrows only made him smile more and fight harder. She was incredible, looking like that while seeming like she wanted to paint him black and blue. The only acceptable response was, of course to fight back just as hard.

He fought her with savagery and met her lunges with parries and cuts, letting the months of fighting against Shadows guide his steps. He'd been good before, he could admit, but he'd been pushing himself to get better lately, and it was beginning to show. He was certain that she was enjoying herself enough to let the leash off a little because any time he scored a hit or scraped her pads, in spite of her parrying dagger, all she did was smile and attack.

Back and forth they went, nicking each other's pads and leaving bruises that they would be feeling later that night. Neither cared. In the moment, the adrenaline flowing in their veins like chemical candy, there was only them and the thrill of the fight. Minato fought his best and revelled in the freedom granted by a worthy opponent.

He was so far into the fighter's high that he didn't notice her feint when he attacked, and barely had enough time to move when she lunged. She missed his torso, but caught the back of his left hand on the tip of her sword with enough force that he felt it though the glove. It was enough to make him flinch, and she rushed forward, tripped up his footing, and sent him to the mat hard.

"Game, set, match: Kirijo," she told him with that same grin, the tip of her sword against his neck while the crowd went wild.

Minato chuckled and held his hand up in surrender. "You win this time, Senpai. Just rewards for getting lucky."

She chuckled. "You call it luck, but you're the one on the ground."

That didn't mean she was the only winner. He counted it as a victory that she got as much out of the fight as she did.

"If we'd keeping track of points, you would have lost. I had you on the third round." He pulled his glove off to examine the damage. The back of his left hand had a long scratch running from the knuckle almost up to his wrist, bleeding a little when he flexed it. Yeah, he'd definitely be feeling it later.

Mitsuru-senpai noticed it and her eyes clouded a little. "Is anything broken? I didn't mean to hit you that hard."

"I'll be fine," he told her with a shrug. "It's nothing I can't handle."

"If it's going to affect your performance..."

Minato looked up at her, grinning while he eyes narrowed. "Senpai, it's fine. I won't break because of a love tap from a girl swinging a knitting needle."

She looked incredulous for a moment, then stepped back. "A girl, huh? Hmph. Fine. I declare myself the winner, and you can just get up on your own."

Minato watched her turn, flip her hair over her shoulder, bow to the assembled crowd, and head off to the change rooms with pride permeating every pore. That strut was back again, in full force this time. He laughed, flexed his hand and pushed himself up. Let her have the victory. He'd get her next time, and promised to make more time for sparring with her. Fighting with her, the adrenaline rushing with an unequalled thrill, was becoming a very attractive activity. Especially when she looked like that. He stood up and took the ribbing and jabs in stride as he pulled his pads off, still trembling from the fight and deaf to the taunts from the students.

In spite of everything, from the rumours to Elizabeth to the certainty that he was going to be getting a lot more crap from his classmates, today hadn't turned out too bad.

No, Mitsuru decided as she set her clothes aside and turned the shower in the change room on, today hadn't been at all disagreeable. If anything, she found the smile on her face impossible to suppress.

She knew what it was, or at least she thought she did. Fighting without any rules always gave her a rush that was second only to riding on her motorcycle. It wasn't the violence or the chance to hurt her opponent, of course, but rather the freedom and the chance to trust someone well enough that she didn't have to hold back. In the ring, she didn't have to justify her decisions to her father or to a board of directors. She didn't have to make excuses or worry about being held up to scrutiny. She was just Mitsuru, there to fight and win.

She could understand why Akihiko chose to fight as often as he did. She didn't when they were younger, thinking that his obsession with fighting was a foolish way to become stronger, but now it was almost as much a part of her as she knew it was a part of him. It was like a caged animal stalking its cage, waiting for the chance to get free and stretch its muscles. Had it not been for Tartarus and the chance to fight the Shadows, she would have taken Shinjiro's departure, the loss of another skilled opponent, even harder than she had. As it was, she was glad for the arrival of her newest opponent.

Arisato Minato. Their resident enigma, and someone who had become closer to her than anyone ever had. He was a worthy opponent in the ring and was only getting better, but she knew there was more to their situation than him just being a great fighter. She was thinking of odd things when he was around. Girly things, normal things, things that she hadn't considered before like swaying when she walked and wondering what part of her he liked the most when she looked in the mirror.

This was what it meant to be involved with a boy, she knew. Up to now, she'd never had the time to get involved with boys. Arisato had been the first to pursue her this much, and with him was coming a kaleidoscope of new feelings and emotions. She'd never been especially conscious of her wardrobe, but now she felt like wearing things she knew he'd like. Sometimes she'd go through perfume shops with Takeba and Yamagishi and wonder what scents appealed to him, or whether he'd like her more if she were more expressive and laughed or smiled more. She even found herself glaring at girls who bothered him at work or went over to his desk for his advice, and she'd had to clench her fists to stop from walking up and shoving them away. The feelings had caught her off-guard, but she couldn't deny that she was enjoying it all. Particularly when she found herself doing things she wouldn't normally have been caught dead doing.

Originally she'd been mortified when she'd touched his hair in the hospital. Despite her calm poise, she was shaking on the inside, afraid that she had overstepped her bounds in the situation. The moment she'd turned the corner from where she'd left Arisato, actually, she'd had to hold onto the wall so she didn't collapse from nerves. Why on Earth had she done that? She'd invaded her comrade's personal space and manhandled him in a way that easily could be seen as inappropriate, even given her recently-acquired license to be closer to him. Why had she gone that far? Why had it felt so good, so right, to do that to him? Poking at him when he'd stepped into the problem with Takeba, bantering with him like she never had before, was even newer territory for her, yet it felt right when she did it.

Mitsuru stopped as she washed her hair, blinking through the steam of the shower. Had she liked it purely because it seemed to bother him? She couldn't deny that seeing him squirm, particularly since he had that effect on almost everyone else and seemed to have an answer for everything, had felt good. Why did she like it? Did she enjoy bullying him? Was she developing a sadistic streak where he was concerned?

She shook her head as images associated with the word came to mind. No, she didn't plan to tie him up or make him wear blindfolds or any other such thing. That was ridiculous, and she respected him too much for that. Still, the enjoyment she got from taking those liberties with him was becoming too strong to ignore. Not only that, but she felt too little shame when doing it to feel bad. It felt liberating and always brought a spring to her step, so much so that she'd caught herself humming songs her mother had sung to her. Maybe she was glad, like when she was fighting with him, to have the chance to act and not worry about the repercussions. Maybe she was just happy to act like a girl her own age and not have to wear a mask for him.

While she was at it, however, she would have to make sure he didn't realize how much fun she had while he was around. He was already a proud, some might say smug, person in public. He'd be insufferable if he knew how he drew smiles out of her like no one else in her life ever had, and how he made her glad to have been born a girl.

 

* * *

 

"You seem to be doing better," Akihiko-senpai told him three nights later as they fought their way through the gloom and filth of Tartarus. "Mitsuru got you pretty good when you were fighting."

Minato flexed his left hand, adrenaline numbing the persistent ache in it. The cut itself was mostly healed, but there were still black and blue splotches where her rapier had hit him. It wasn't enough that he couldn't use his Evoker, but he'd ask Yukari to look at it once they wrapped up for the night. He wasn't going to take the chance of affecting his performance, not when the Shadows were getting stronger. "I'll be fine," he replied, running his fingers over the grooves of his Evoker.

"It's been a while since she's had the chance to fight like that," the boxer noted, spattered with Shadow gunk and not looking the least bit concerned about it. "Good job on lasting that long."

Minato glanced at his senpai. It was easy to imagine the two having sparred in the past, but this was the first time that it really mattered enough to him to ask. "Have you fought with her before?"

Akihiko-senpai chuckled. "More than once. She gets pretty into it sometimes, and that's when you have to be careful."

Next to them, Shinjiro-senpai grunted. "It's good for her. Lets her get everything out of her system so she doesn't blow up on us later."

Minato shook his head after a moment. That didn't sound like her. "I can't see that happening, honestly."

"Maybe not, but it's better to not take the chance." The taller teen looked around, noting how the others were checking the corners and side rooms before he smiled in a rather unpleasant way. "You should get used to her coming at you that hard, though."

"Why is that?"

"Shinji," Akihiko-senpai warned.

Shinjiro-senpai waved him off, not looking away from Minato. "She's got a lot of energy to burn sometimes. If you're serious about being with her, you'd better think of ways to help her get it all out. Something really physical and more than just fighting."

Minato stared back, not ready to take the bait or reveal his hand. "She's a comrade and a friend. If you're implying that we're going out or that there's something deeper to us working together, then it's none of your business."

"It isn't? I'm part of this team too, so it is my business. Besides, even if you're not saying it, there's no way you're just friends with her. Remember all your questions before we went to the festival?"

"Let's get back to work," Akihiko-senpai told them before leaving to join the others.

Minato's first impulse was to follow, but he was annoyed by Shinjiro-senpai's insinuations. He was the leader of SEES in the field, after all, and damned if he was going to back down to one of the members. Even if he did have more experience. "I remember, and I told you that those were professional by nature. What's your point?"

"You think I have a point?"

"We're in Tartarus, fighting Shadows, and you're wasting my time like this. You'd better have a point."

Shinjiro-senpai's eyes widened a little before he grinned even more and leaned in close. "Very good answer, Leader. Maybe she wasn't wrong about you after all."

Senpai had spoken to Shinjiro-senpai about their work? That was news to Minato. "It's not your place to question her decisions or my orders. Not unless we give you a reason to."

"Good," Shinjiro-senpai intoned with a low chuckle. "You're learning, pup. If you want to be close to her, that's fine. It's no skin off my ass. But just so you know, you two weren't really sparring the other day. It might have seemed like it to everyone else, but that wasn't fighting; it was foreplay."

Minato's retort died at the sudden shift in implications, and blushed when he thought of Mitsuru-senpai in her pads again. And how her thin summer attire clung to her in the heat.

"That's not a bad thing," the older teen continued. "If you want to rock her hard, then I'm all for it. Just don't think that it's not obvious to the people who know what they're looking for. Your little game of secrets isn't going to last forever."

"That's none of your business," Minato insisted angrily, hackles rising. "Not my life, not Senpai's."

Shinjiro-senpai snorted, contempt heavy in his voice. "I know it isn't. That's why I'm keeping it to myself instead of running around telling people like those brain-dead dipshits at school."

That stopped Minato in place. "Why tell me then?"

"You don't know her like me and Akihiko do. You can fight with her all you want, but you haven't seen sides of her that we have. You're pretty clueless as it is, so you need all the help you can get."

"Thanks for your pity," Minato snapped, sick of the older fighter's jabs. "Keep it to yourself next time."

"Maybe," Shinjiro-senpai shot back before turning to join the others.

Minato stood there for a minute, getting his emotions under control. It wouldn't do to show the others that the newcomer had gotten to him. It wasn't until he turned to answer Fuuka's inquiries about why he'd stopped that he headed down the hall toward the steps to the next floor.

He was still seething when he walked up the stairs, Personas stirring and twisting inside. Between one simple, unassuming step and the next, everything went completely wrong.

Each time they went from one floor to the next, the Dark Hour rippled around them. It was one of the reasons, he'd theorized, why the floors changed between one night and the next. He'd gotten so used to it that he barely felt it anymore, but this time the sensation of crossing the wall of water whipped around him like the water was in a washing machine that went into its spin cycle. Inky blackness enveloped him and Minato was thrown to and fro, a shout of warning lost as the Dark Hour spat him out hard enough that he lost his balance. Feeling sick and grasping for his Evoker, he tried to still his lurching stomach and looked around. Instead of being in the hallways or near the staircase he'd just been on, he was in a corner with only one way out. He couldn't see or hear any of the others.

"Minato-kun!" Fuuka shouted through their link. "Are you alright?"

Minato put his fingers to his forehead to stop from puking while his Personas writhed in fury and indignation, prickling his nerves and making it worse. "I'm fine," he gritted. He wasn't, but he needed to find the others before the Shadows found him. "What happened? Where is everyone?"

"It looks like they were thrown around by... I'm not sure what caused it. It's like something you did set off a trap and it separated you from everyone. And everyone from each other. Some of them are still on the floor below you. I'm trying to get in touch with them now."

"Don't let them come up," Minato told her, leaning against a wall, which gave a little and felt squishy and warm, while he steadied his head and peeked around the corner. "Keep them there until you find out what happened."

"I will," she promised, pausing for a few seconds before coming back. "It seems that Akihiko-senpai, Mitsuru-senpai, Ken-kun and Koro-chan are on the same floor as you. They're coming toward you and should be there in a few minutes."

Minato nodded, calling up a Persona to quell his stomach and take the edge off his vertigo. "Good. Tell Yukari she's in charge until they can get up here without setting off whatever that was."

"Understood."

He let out a sharp breath, drew his sword and walked as quietly as he could. He nearly pulled the trigger on his Evoker when he heard scratching on the floor, hard and rocky where the walls were neither, but held back when distinct sniffing accompanied the sound. He gave a short whistle and smiled a little when Koromaru darted around the corner, barking and rushing up to lick him on the face. "Hey boy," he said quietly. "Good to see you. Are you alone?"

"Koro!" a young voice called out. "Where did you go?"

Minato let the dog go, scratching him behind the ears before walking toward the voice. "He's right here, Ken," he called.

The young student poked his head around the corner, spear held at the ready. "Oh, there you are Arisato-senpai. Are you okay?"

"Nothing I can't handle. What about you?"

"Koromaru and I found Kirijo-senpai and Akihiko-senpai earlier. They were looking for you and we decided to come up ahead. They're not too far away."

Smart kid. As leery as Minato had been, and still was, about their youngest member being in the field with them, he was certainly growing into the task. "You were using your head. Good man. Let's find them before anything else happens."

Minato followed them back the way they came, taking it slow and steady while keeping in touch with the others through Fuuka. Off in the distance, there was a quiet crash and scream of a Shadow. The familiar ringing in his ears told him someone was using a Persona. Minato lowered his hand to hold Ken in place. "Go slow," he said. "If it's our senpai, they can handle it until we get there. Running into another trap just means more trouble."

Ken looked up, conflicted and obviously eager to follow the sounds. "Aren't you worried about them?"

"Of course I am," Minato told him softly. "That's why I want to make sure we get there in one piece."

"Spoken like a proper leader," a dry, familiar voice told him from deep in the nearby gloom. "Glad you're learning, Arisato."

Akihiko-senpai and Mitsuru-senpai approached, weapons ready but neither wearing any fresh Shadow muck. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," Minato told them, sagging in relief. They were alright. She was alright. "Do we know what happened?"

"We were separated somehow," Mitsuru-senpai noted, looking at the walls and making a face of distaste. "It seems like something happened on the stairs. I'm not sure why or how it happened; I've never felt anything like that before."

"Fuuka thinks it was a trap, or something we set off," Minato commented. "If that's the case, we should try to turn it off so the others can get here."

"I wonder if it would be so bad if they did set it off," Akihiko-senpai noted, moving his hand in an arc to indicate the rooms around them. "We haven't seen any Shadows so far, and this is a prime chance of an ambush. You'd think they'd jump on the chance to hit us while we're separated like this."

"Neither have I," Minato mentioned, frowning. "Wait, you didn't? Wasn't that you fighting them before?"

"No," Mitsuru-senpai replied. "We thought it was you or Koromaru."

"That's strange," Akihiko-senpai noted. "Whoever's fighting them is doing a pretty good job of staying alive. Definitely not someone who is new at this."

Minato bit his lip, trying to think through the possibilities. "Fuuka said that everyone is below us, none of us were fighting, and she hasn't mentioned anyone else on the floor. Except someone is fighting those Shadows and using a Persona."

"It could be Strega," Mitsuru-senpai told them grimly. "They're the only ones would be that strong. Also, Yoshino mentioned that they come here sometimes."

"If that's the case, then let's be careful," Akihiko-senpai concluded, cracking his neck. "Maybe we can get the drop on them and get some payback."

The explosions echoed down the halls, closer this time.

"It's not like we have a choice. Unless we find the stairs, we're going to run into them no matter what." Minato turned to Ken, eyes narrow. "If it is Strega, you stay behind us and be careful."

"I can handle myself, Senpai. I helped with Yoshino, remember?"

Minato let out a breath. Of course the kid would have the bit in his teeth now that they had to rely on each other. "I know you did. I haven't forgotten. But those other two are dangerous. Yoshino gave us enough trouble, and I don't want you getting hurt. Fighting people is different from fighting Shadows."

Ken clearly had something he wanted to say, but after a few quiet seconds he sighed and nodded. "Alright, Senpai. I'll be careful. But I still want to help where I can."

"That's fine. Just keep low and be careful. Don't take any chances, and that goes for the rest of us as well."

They walked down the twisting, warped halls of Tartarus, getting closer to the ringing sound and the explosions when they heard a voice.

"Dammit! Just stay down and DIE already!!" The blast that followed was loud enough to drown out the Shadow's screams, filling the air with the smell of burnt tar.

Akihiko-senpai held up a hand to halt them, tilting his head to listen better. "I think we've found our suspect."

Mitsuru-senpai frowned, tapping her Evoker. "Yoshino didn't mention Strega having another girl in their roster. She only talked about the two that Arisato met in the alleys."

"Hey! No no no, you don't get to run!" The last word was punctuated by an impact that rumbled in the floor. "See what you made me do? I had to run after you!" This time there was an explosion that drowned out the Shadow's scream, filling the air in the hall with the smell of burnt hair and tar.

"That's a little excessive," Mitsuru-senpai remarked, eyes narrow despite her skin paling.

Minato nodded but kept silent. There was something odd about the voice as it swore and shouted. He couldn't place it, but it was familiar for some reason.

They cautiously moved forward and came to a large open room and the charred, half-standing corpse of a Shadow. A figure in black landed near them, scanning the room before setting the butt of an odd-looking hammer on the floor. "Finally," the person said in a voice that was high-pitched and female, still glowing from summoning her Persona.

Minato realized what it was about her about her voice that he recognized: it sounded synthetic, just like Aigis.

"Stupid freaks didn't want to die," she continued, unaware of them. There was a long, squishy... thing draped over her shoulder. It looked like a tail or a string of intestines, and she didn't bother to remove it. There were also chunks of Shadow flesh and bone clinging to the head of her hammer, which also went ignored, and a severed claw that was still clinging to her leg, smoking with white bone showing through.

It had been a while since Minato had seen anything so macabre. He got chills just by looking at her, and he wasn't sure that they came from the Dark Hour.

A wet gurgling sound trailed up from the ground near her, the remnants of a Shadow that had survived her attacks. Was it trying to attack? Flee? She didn't seem to care. "Persistent little bastard, aren't you?!" Walking over with heavy footfalls, she drew back and drove her heeled foot into it. It squealed and screamed, a high-pitched and almost human sound, but she didn't stop. She crushed it over and over with a sickening, squishy crunch until it dissolved into black muck. "Damn it, now I have to clean up again. Thanks."

Like you don't need to anyway, Minato thought as his stomach turned a little. Was he still sick from being thrown across Tartarus? He wouldn't have thought that seeing a Shadow so roundly pulverized would bother him, but...

She turned a little, and jumped back when she saw them, weapon at the ready. "Who're you!? Where'd you come from?!" She either didn't notice or didn't care that part of a Shadow's face was impaled on the spiked end of her hammer, its gaze empty as it stared at them.

Minato's eyes narrowed. She looked like a girl, but a quick glance told him she wasn't. She was covered in black armour, had short black hair and red eyes, and wore a skirt that was made of metal slats, coloured black and red with butterfly designs. Her joints were thin and mechanical, exactly like Aigis, and in the few places where her armour was damaged, only metal showed underneath instead of flesh. Attached to each side of her head were the arms for what looked like a red butterfly-shaped visor or a mask of some sort, which glittered in the low light and was clean despite her being covered in crap from the Shadows.

Another android. One that could use a Persona. It seemed like they'd stumbled across the Anti-Shadow Weapon that had gone missing. When Minato looked into those eyes, the chill got worse. Not across his face or his flesh, but across his very soul, and his Personas riled up and hissed in his ears. Another similarity, this one very unwelcome.

"We're with the Kirijo Group," Mitsuru-senpai told the android, stepping forward with her hands in plain sight. "We're hunting Shadows. You are here for the same reason, correct?"

"Hm..." The android looked at each of them, incredulity on her face when she looked at Koromaru. "Maybe. What's it to you?"

Whatever her name was, this one was definitely opinionated. Like a mouthy teenager. Maybe it was how free she was with her speech, but she sounded more human than Aigis did even after months of practice. Still, the mechanical undertones added a synthesis that felt colder, almost aggressive where Aigis just sounded like computer speakers. Minato couldn't shake the cold feeling running through him, and his Personas twisted tighter and faster under his skin. The scars on his arms tingled and buzzed. What was going on? As bad as the feelings he got from Aigis were, for some reason this one was worse.

"If we're here for the same reasons, then it makes sense for us to at least talk to each other," Akihiko-senpai pointed out. "You did a pretty good job with these ones."

The android snorted, a human expression that sounded wrong when made through mechanical analogue. "I guess. It's sad that this impresses you, though. It's "pretty good" if you can't do it yourself."

Akihiko-senpai chuckled, letting the insult brush past him. "That's one way to look at it. You escaped from the Kirijo Group's facilities a while ago didn't you?"

The android's expression hardened. She looked at each of them, suspicion heavy in those eyes.

Minato could almost hear the cameras that they were composed of, zooming in and out as she looked, and the thought made him cringe. Why was she bothering him this much? What was he reacting to? He should be used to things this crazy. Did this one know him too?

"I'm looking for something," she told them finally, not coming out of her defensive stance. "It's none of your business what it is. I had to leave that place to find it, so that's what I did."

"If you're here to kill Shadows, then it is our business. We're on the same side," Akihiko-senpai told her. "Also, I'm guessing that you know Aigis"

The android sprang forward, eyes wide and expression demanding. "You... you know her?! Where is she?!"

"We got separated from her, and–"

"Well, find her! I need to talk to her!"

"Before we do that," Mitsuru-senpai brought up, her tone clearly putting her in control, "why don't you tell us what your connection to her is? Who are you?"

The android backed up a step, looking at Mitsuru-senpai like she wasn't sure what to make of her. After a few seconds of red-eyed stares, the stranger straightened, huffed and answered. "I'm Metis, and she's my sister, of course. Isn't that obvious? How many other Anti-Shadow Weapons do you know?"

"Were you looking for her?" Minato asked, speaking carefully through the noise and pain his Personas were kicking up. "If that's the case, why not contact the Kirijo? They've known about Aigis living with us for months."

Metis bit her lip and looked away, the claw and intestines wriggling a little as she did so. "That... that would have made sense, I suppose." She looked back up, eyes narrowing. "I couldn't talk to them. It's not important why. Hurry up and help me. I have a job to do and it's important that I talk to her."

"Calm down," Akihiko-senpai told her firmly while nodding to Minato. "We'll contact her right now and then you can talk to her, alright?"

Minato looked to the side, trying to shake the chills and the sense of danger as he told Fuuka to send Aigis up to them. "There. It's done. She'll be here soon, so why don't you talk to us?"

Metis shrugged petulantly. "I guess. I don't want to talk about myself though. What are humans doing here? Why'd you bring dog? Shadows are dangerous, you know."

"We know about them," Akihiko-senpai assured her. "We've been fighting them since they arrived."

"You... You've been fighting them?" Even the harsh synthetic tones couldn't mask her incredulity. "How? Actually, why? You're just humans."

"Humans with Personas," Minato pointed out. "And yes, we've been fighting them."

It took a few seconds, but understanding grew in her red eyes, and a show of what might have been grudging respect reflected on her face. "So you were the ones who killed the Shadows in the tank. I thought it was the other humans who did it, but I guess if you have Sis helping you, then you'd have a better shot at staying alive."

"Don't those bother you?" Ken asked, pointing at the Shadow accoutrements on her shoulder and weapon.

She looked down at him, dismissive. "Hm? Why're you here, little boy?"

"I'm part of the team, so don't treat me like a kid!"

Metis shrugged after a moment. "I guess if you're helping Sis, then you've got something going for you. No, it doesn't bother me. Shadows are stupid things, but even they can be frightened. If they see what happened to the others who fought me, they might get smart and leave me alone. If they don't, then I make examples of them."

This time, the mechanical tones perfectly suited her cold words and the almost-eager smile on her face. Minato was sure he wasn't the only one who felt that something was off. "Does that include the ones who run away?" he asked. "We heard you before."

"That's different," Metis insisted. "They attacked me first. Besides, they're just Shadows. I'm supposed to kill them, so I do. Who cares how I do it?"

"You mentioned other humans," Mitsuru-senpai brought up. "Does that mean you've met other Persona-Users since coming here?"

"Yeah," Metis replied with a snort, "and they're way stronger than you."

Akihiko-senpai chuckled mirthlessly. "You haven't seen us fight. You might be surprised."

"I don't need to. I can tell these things. You guys just made it this far because Sis was helping you."

"We can get to them in a minute. Thank you for helping us with that Shadow in the bunker," Mitsuru-senpai continued, though her tone was becoming less tolerant. "We would have been in greater danger and might not have made it otherwise."

Metis shrugged and looked around, her visor glowing a little. "Sure, whatever. Is Sis here yet?"

"She's on her way," Minato assured her. "I have a question. Why the secrecy? If you're fighting Shadows and you saw us doing the same, why didn't you try to contact us? Or at least give us a clue that you were here? We would have helped you."

Metis blinked as she looked at him, her eyes narrowing a little before she answered. "I'm not just looking for normal Shadows. What I'm doing is more important than that. There's a special Shadow in this city, one of the big ones except that this one is good at staying behind the scenes. It's still out there, and I'm going to find it."

Minato thought of the Shadow in the hotel. "Is it still alive? We killed one that sounds like what you're talking about."

Metis glared at him. "Of course it's still alive. I wouldn't be here if I didn't need to be, now would I?"

"It's still alive but it's keeping itself secret?" Mitsuru-senpai asked with a frown. "That doesn't sound like what we've seen so far. The others have all been rather blatant in their destruction."

"Like I said," Metis replied, a bit less edge in her voice when she spoke to Senpai, "this one's special. It's behind a lot of the stuff that's going on with the humans staring at nothing all the time."

"The Lost," Minato supplied. "We know about them."

"Stop interrupting!" the android snapped. "Anyway, Sis ran into this Shadow once before, and it's still alive. I'm here to help her destroy it once we find it. That's why I left the lab."

"Wait," Mitsuru-senpai told them. "Aigis mentioned this before. Was this Shadow you're talking about the one who damaged her ten years ago?"

Metis wasn't listening. She stared at Minato, suspicion growing in her mechanical eyes while her hands tightened on her hammer. Minato shivered and stepped back, hand going to his Evoker. Why was she looking at him like that? Why was he feeling like this?

It felt like everything was racing toward the edge of a cliff. What the hell was going on?

A voice murmured in his ears, familiar but cautionary. Be careful with her, Brother.

Pharos. Why now? He'd never done that bef–

"You!" Metis shouted, pointing at Minato and snarling like a bear. "What are you?! How did you survive?!"

Minato's breath caught in his chest, his Personas screaming in challenge. What? Had she... there was no way she'd heard Pharos. No one else knew he existed! "Wait, what are you talking about?"

The android crouched, about to lunge with her hammer at the ready. "Shut up! You won't beat her this time, and you won't get free!"

"Metis, what do you–"

Blue fire flashed around the android as she leaped back, a hazy figure emerging from the ether. "Psyche!"

A mechanical Persona, butterfly motifs around a figure that looked like Palladion, manifested and flew forward, aiming straight for Minato. He panicked, not sure what to do, but his Personas rushed to the fore. His Evoker was out and he pulled the trigger in a flash, a Persona diverting hers at the last second in a blast of thunder and light. The impact knocked him back several steps, almost knocking him over.

Minato grit his teeth while pain raked his face and hands. She was serious.

"Metis!" Akihiko-senpai shouted, his Evoker already free. "What the hell are you doing?! He's not a Shadow! Stand down!"

"You must have tricked her! You're dead!" Metis's visor came down, covering her face and glowing bright red. A second later the entire room was bathed in a shifting rainbow of colour, reaching every corner and cranny.

Minato gasped as the voices of his Personas faded like they were muffled or really far away The electric jolt he usually got from holding his Evoker was gone too.

What had she done?

"You fooled the humans because they're all idiots," Metis told him, her voice as cold as when she'd chased down the Shadow before. She wasn't even shouting or swearing. "You won't fool me. You're not leaving here alive."

Minato saw her Persona manifesting again and tried firing his Evoker. Nothing. He tried again. Nothing again. Just like in the hotel, he was cut off from his usual passengers, and this felt much worse than last time.

He tracked where Psyche would attack, ducking and rolling to the side at the last second. Its claws tore into the floor and walls, barely missing him. To the left, Akihiko-senpai tried to bring his Persona out, but the best he could do was a faint blue outline that Metis crashed into, beating it until it faded. She lunged at the boxer, but a phantom howl ignited the air in front of her, forcing her back.

Mitsuru-senpai's face was in a pained grimace, her hands shaking. Ken was doubled over, his Evoker shaking in his hands. Even Cerberus wasn't forming properly. Somehow Metis was blocking their Personas while using her own with impunity.

Psyche wound up for another strike, and Minato dug so deep that the scars on his arms flashed with pain. He grit his teeth, looked at the being bearing down on him, and called with all his strength.

It was like starting a fire underwater, pressure and weight suppressing his best efforts. It felt constrictive from his head right down to his heels. He swore and pushed with what he had, summoning a Persona, he had no idea which one, just in time to take the hit again. The impact knocked him back, almost off his feet this time.

Psyche didn't return to Metis. It stayed right above him, staring at him with its narrow face. It wound up for another strike, and Minato knew he couldn't stop it.

The Grim Reaper drew its scythe back, and Death stared him in the face.

What stopped the killing blow wasn't a sword, but a spark in white and red. Mitsuru-senpai leaped in front of him, shouting for her Persona with all her considerable strength.

It was enough. Except it wasn't.

Penthesilea manifested at the last second, enough to take the hit but not enough to stop it. Psyche's claws ripped forward and tore into Mitsuru-senpai's side, sending torn shirt and blood to the ground.

"Mitsuru!"

Minato's heart stopped when he saw her, doubling over in pain and holding the wound. He willed his body, heavy as lead, to move, to get to her, to help her! Faster!

He barely reached her, took her weight onto himself and let her crash into him. He heard her gasps and groans, felt her shivering through her clothes and the armour that saved her from being torn in half.

He blanked out, lost the battle around him. He didn't see Ken manifest his Persona in desperation to push Metis back. He didn't hear Akihiko-senpai scream in fury, fully manifesting Polydeuces for a long enough second to strike at Psyche. All he saw was Senpai and the blood under her. Her pained, whimpered breathing. The tears in her eyes and the pallor to her skin.

The blood on his hands. Warm, wet, hers.

His teeth grated so hard together that his entire face hurt. The handle of his Evoker bit into his hand. He set her down, pressing his jacket to her side to try and stop the bleeding. Deaf to her words, he stepped forward. He stared at the enemy, felt hatred enter his heart, and thought only one thing:

You're fucking dead.

He reached for the power, same as he had against Takaya. He imagined the energy he needed as electricity running through circuits in his body and pushed it into overload. He started the power surge in his feet, where the field was less effective, and fired it off.

"I am thou," he began, glaring at Metis and seeing nothing else.

White-hot power ripped up his legs, rushing up his muscle fibres and through his veins in the place of blood. He forced it past Metis's suppression, and almost buckled at the knees when it hit the joints. He could feel his muscle writhing in response. He didn't care.

He called for one Persona in the multitude in his heart. One he knew would survive anything. "Come to me, undefeated and victorious in death."

Up his thighs, pain shredding them. Up his stomach, where the power gained speed and made him want to double over. He felt his organs twist at the two powers fought inside him. He pushed even harder. His lungs constricted in agony. His heart tripped and fluttered, everything going white-hot in agony.

Blood filled his mouth, and he didn't stop. "Fulfill your contract and strike down my enemies."

He couldn't see the room. Everything but Metis and Psyche went white or black. Raw energy seared the bones in his arms, turning the corner of his elbow and flaring like he'd grabbed a lightning bolt. Blood erupted from his arms, from the back of his hand where Mitsuru-senpai had cut him.

"Answer me, Ulster's blood-soaked Child of Light!"

The gunshot sounded like a bomb going off. Blue light blazed like a new sun, pushing the rainbow-coloured aura back.

The warrior who arose before him didn't hesitate. A demi-god of legend rushed Psyche, spear in hand, and struck at it over and over with stabs like lightning. Psyche tried to pull back, tried to push itself up, but it couldn't match the Persona's inhuman speed. Over and over, the blood-red spear tore through its defences and ripped out blood and circuitry. Cú Chulainn lunged and caught it on his spear. Instead of pulling out, he swung down in an arc. Psyche was slammed against the floor, twisting as it tried to escape. Cú Chulainn raised a foot, and brought it down onto the Persona's head, heedless of its shriek. Two more blows ended Psyche's struggles, sending it back into blue light.

Cú Chulainn turned toward Metis and rushed her. The disbelief in her eyes turned to loathing before she met the Persona head-on. She fought the bloodthirsty demi-god, trying to parry the lightning-fast strikes. But human machinery, however advanced, failed before an unshackled Persona. Long gashes and deep cuts opened all over her in moments, blood and oil spilling from her wounds. One of her arms was caught and torn off, and a second later the spear went through her leg. She screamed when it came out, opening herself up. Cú Chulainn lunged forward and kicked her in the chest, sending her tumbling into the wall before taking two steps and throwing his Gáe Bolg at her.

The explosion on impact shook the very floor. Chunks of the fleshy wall showered them, pieces of robotic circuitry scattered around where Metis lied, torn to shreds.

The aura dissipated in a last, dimmed flicker, and Minato crumpled to the floor before coughing up blood. His Persona vanished after giving a salute, and his entire body felt like he'd put it through a blender. The shivering started then, uncontrollable and agonizing. Every cough, every tremble, made him hurt more from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head. He was starting to feel... really cold...

"Minato-kun!" Yukari shouted, rushing over. "What happened to you?!"

When had she gotten there? Were the others here too?

"Help him," Mitsuru-senpai implored, shuffling over to them while holding his jacket to her side. "What he did..."

"I will, senpai." Yukari called on Io and began to heal him.

The pain of all his nerves being stimulated at once made Minato double over even more, gasping and trembling violently. "Stop," he croaked, coughing up blood. "No more."

Yukari touched his body, ran her fingers over his scars where the blood had punched out, and shook her head. "This is bad, senpai," Yukari reported shakily. "It's like when he was in the alleys and he tore his arms up, except it's all on the inside this time."

"Internal bleeding?" Mitsuru-senpai inquired, pushing herself to her feet. Fresh blood dripped down her side as she called on Penthesilea to patch up her side.

Yukari nodded, looking pale."I'm sure of it. He needs to get to a hospital."

Hospital. Yes, a hospital sounded good. Minato tried to inhale, but coughed on the blood in his throat. That made everything stab him like broken glass. "Sure," he croaked out, "but no healing."

"I'm sorry," Mitsuru-senpai told him grimly. "If we don't do this, you'll die. We won't do it more than we have to, but it's necessary."

Minato shook his head as best he could. He was too tired to crawl away. "Hurts too much."

She took his hand and squeezed it, looking him in the eye. "No more than we need to. I promise." She nodded at Yukari and took a bracing breath. "Let's get this over with quickly. Then we'll need Shinjiro to carry him."

They both glowed blue, trying to be gentle but still eliciting pained screams.

 

* * *

 

Minato stared at the ceiling, dazed and numb from the drugs he was being fed through the IV in his arm. He should have been in more pain, and knew on some level that he wasn't out of the woods yet since the doctors and nurses kept talking to Mitsuru-senpai in quiet tones. But it was hard to take anything seriously when he was this doped up.

The numbness probably would have scared him once, but it was a welcome relief compared to the agony that Yukari and Mitsuru-senpai inflicted on him. They'd even brought Akihiko-senpai over to help, which made it even worse. Together, they healed him enough that he could be picked up and carried. Of everything he'd been through since April, that had been a brand new category of pain that he'd never experienced before. Instead of his nerves giving out and the pain decreasing, being healed only made it worse. He'd felt energized, alive, and that made everything worse. He wasn't sure how Senpai's hand wasn't broken from how hard he'd squeezed it. Maybe it was. He'd have to pay her back for that.

The only good part of the night was that he was too tired, too much of a wreck, to remember Shinjiro-senpai carrying him out of Tartarus. He had no idea how the crabby teen took it, and he was glad to be ignorant.

He pulled himself into the present . Thinking was getting hard, though. Faces were blending together, and his eyes were getting heavy. As a distraction, he tried to focus on the people in his room. Why were they there again? One of them touched something on his IV. Who was she? In trying to figure it all out, he dozed off.

When he woke up again, there was daylight pouring through the window. His head felt clearer, though the absence of pain and how long it took him to look down at his own arm told him that he was still drugged. A slight pinch on his foot pulled his head up to see who was there with him.

White and red, looking tired. Mitsuru-senpai. She was alone, looking smaller than he remembered. She was still taller than he was, though. That bugged him.

"How are you?" she asked quietly, coming around to his side. "You really gave us a scare, you know."

"I don't feel much," he told her, the words tumbling through a thick tongue. "But I'm alright."

"You're still in bad shape," she told him, taking a seat by his bed and hissing in pain.

Oh. Right. She'd been injured too. Was she okay?

"You've been here for five days," she reported, "and they needed a lot of blood to get you stable again. I hear that Iori and Amada were determined to donate theirs if you needed it."

The details of the fight cleared in his head, and his body throbbed like a pulsing vein in response. "Was it that bad?"

"Worse," she told him, quiet and hushed as she took his hand and stroked the back. "They kept me busy with my own wounds, so I didn't get all the details. I heard enough, though. It sounded like you weren't going to make it."

Given how he'd felt when he defeated Metis, he wasn't surprised. Pushing himself in the alleys seemed like a bee sting now. "I didn't think it would get that bad."

She shook her head, long longs shining in the light. "None of us did. I never knew it was even possible. Akihiko suffered a bit of the same, from pushing himself like you did. But nothing to the same degree. We healed you as best we could, but even Takeba and I have limits. I've never seen injuries like those before, to be honest. I'm amazed that she could heal you as well as she did."

Minato nodded, and it felt like his head wanted to fall off his neck. "I guess I owe her."

Mitsuru-senpai chuckled. "I'll tell her you said that. She's sleeping in the waiting room, you know."

Mintao wanted to comment on that, but a more pressing question pushed the topic aside. "Senpai? Why did Metis attack us? She came after me in particular. Why?"

Mitsuru-senpai sighed and shook her head. "I don't know. Aigis linked with her before she... expired. From what she said, Metis had corrupted programming that came from how she woke up. We think she saw something in you that wasn't actually there, so she mistook you for a Shadow and attacked."

Really? Bad programming could cause that? "That didn't look like a mistake, or a computer virus or something. She seemed to know what she was doing."

Mitsuru-senpai shushed him and stroked his hair softly, making him lean into the sensation. "I know," she told him softly. "I don't know what happened. The Group has recovered her body for analysis. Hopefully they'll tell us something soon."

That was the best he could hope for. He was becoming a bit more lucid, and knew that Senpai wouldn't let things go unexplained. "How is Aigis? Did she know who Metis was?"

"I asked her," she replied with a frown. "She didn't seem to remember her, but she's also kept to herself since you got here. I don't know if she is angry or sad or if there is anything there in the first place."

Minato sighed. It took him longer than usual to put the pieces together, but he could see where the conversation was taking them. "More questions."

Mitsuru-senpai nodded, a small smile on her lips. "It seems so. If you have a moment though, I have a question for you."

"For me? Sure. I'm not going anywhere."

She chuckled. "I guess I don't have to worry about you if you can joke around."

"It wasn't that funny."

"No, it wasn't," she told him, smiling. "You called my name when I was injured, didn't you? You didn't use any honorifics."

He was surprised he could still blush, doped up as he was. But he could, it seemed. "I... I guess I did. Seeing you hurt was... It was a reflex, I guess."

"I don't mind," she assured him softly, leaning forward. "Like I said, you can call me by my name on occasion."

Special privileges. It was enough to make him smile, despite how red he was. "I'll try to remember that. If I remember anything when I get out of here."

"That won't be for a while," she told him firmly. "The doctors are set on keeping you here to make sure you heal properly, and I support their decision. No lying this time, and no skipping out just because you want to leave. You have to get better from this, and you'll be lucky if it doesn't affect you later on in life."

"If you say so, Senpai." She picked up his left hand, tracing along where she'd... she'd cut him there, hadn't she? At school. He looked down and saw a pile of stitches along the back of it. "What happened there?"

"They said that the cut was a weak spot when you were summoning your Persona, so the blood vessels ruptured. It's going to leave a scar."

Another one to add to the collection. "Girls like those, don't they?"

She shook her head and looked away, giving a small huff.

"Hey." He focused on her enough that he could speak properly when she turned back to him. "I'm sorry if I worried you. The blood went to my head."

The doubt and concern was clear in her eyes. "If I had been stronger, or maybe faster..."

"Don't think that way. You saved my life, Senpai. That means a lot more to me than having another scar."

"You have this one because I got carried away, though."

"A cut on my hand is the least of my problems," he told her, feeling normal enough to look her in the eye. "Don't beat yourself up over it. I had fun fighting with you. I want to do it again when I get out of here."

She looked uncertain, hiding behind her hair but looking at him speculatively. "If... if you're sure."

Seeing her in her pads again? Pushing her until she turned loose and fought him like she meant it? "I'm very sure."

She nodded, her smile returning. "I'll remember that."

Things went quiet between them for a few minutes, and while Minato loved the feel of her playing with his hair, the thoughts of their work intruded. "What's going on, Senpai? Metis, the Shadows, all this stuff with me. Why is this happening?"

"I don't know, Arisato." She hugged him from the side, and he negotiated his arms well enough that he could hug her back. He hated being weak, and even more than that he hated showing weakness. Minako always got riled up whenever he cried, and their father told him that he had to grow up to be responsible and look after his sister. Minato always felt like he had to be strong for the others or else they'd lose their trust in him as their leader. But here, with no one else around, he let her comfort him. He let the shaky breathing come. He let himself tremble from his brush with Death, and he let himself doubt.

What was going on? Where was this path going? Where were the Shadows taking them?

Why did it feel like it wasn't done getting worse?

 

* * *

 

She had always been grateful to SEES for giving her the room that they had. Spacious enough for her to clean her weapons and sleep without being cramped, she hadn't needed more than that yet Yukari-san and Fuuka-san frequently visited her so that she would feel comfortable. They had insisted that she have proper pillows and sheets for the bed, even though she didn't need such comforts. She'd stated as much, but they overrode her, and she'd been glad for it when she experienced the new comforts.

As much as she wanted to sleep, however, she couldn't. For the first time since she had awakened, she was conscious and active when she didn't want to be.

_"Why, sister?"_

She shook her head and turned over, staring at her computer console. Since they'd returned from their encounter with Metis, Aigis hadn't been the same. She'd tried to shake off the feeling that rattled her when she saw the Anti-Shadow Weapon, torn and shredded and sprawled in pieces against the wall. She never thought of the others. Had she never known they existed? Had she never cared? Why had it been a surprise?

_"Why, sister?"_

Aigis got to her feet and began counting dogs. Fuuka-san had said that, to help herself sleep, she would count mammals jumping over fences. Aigis envisioned dogs like Koromaru-san leaping over hedges and hoped that it would help.

_"Why, sister?"_

When she linked with Metis, the experience was frightening. Seeing so many things from a different perspective, feeling Psyche grab at that connection and rush into her, melding with Palladion had scared her at first. But their compatible programming asserted itself and she accepted the upgrade as a matter of course. She saw that Metis had, in her quest to find her and track down Death, contacted Strega and found them unreliable, opting to investigate on her own. She'd sensed the Shadow and taken the chance, attacking Minato-san and the others in accordance with her prime directive.

Aigis remembered the truth now. She'd lied to the others and blamed the corrupt programming in Metis's most basic runtimes, but she knew that even if she'd been there, Metis still would have attacked. Though if she'd been there, she might have been able to explain the situation. Explain to her why it had to happen this way. Explain... Explain...

_"Why, sister?"_

Explain what? How could she explain this? That she was making up for a past mistake? That she'd put her emotions before her mission? She knew the risks she was taking. Death's influence was pervasive, as was the touch of any Shadow. Minato-san's force of will was admirable, but he was only one person. What was that life when compared to the fate of the world if Death escaped?

Had she been wrong back then? Should she have killed the child in the ruined automobile instead of sparing him? Why had she stayed her hand? Not being strong enough to kill Death back then had been an answer at the time, but what about now? Her mission was to kill Shadows, and Death was the strongest of them. Why hadn't she finished it yet? Why wasn't she finishing it now?

For the chance of a future. That was what she told herself.

What if she was wrong? Could she take that risk? What was she supposed to do when Metis's voice, a last gasp before her programming self-terminated, refused to leave her even when she shut off her external audio receptors? With what was coming, what was she supposed to do?

_"Why, sister?"_


	11. Prêt

"Thank you for meeting me on such short notice," Mitsuru told her odd guest, taking a seat across from her in Chagall Cafe at Paulownia Mall. There weren't many people around them, and the soft leather chairs and subdued colours of the floor and walls leant the coffee shop a quiet, almost intimate ambiance. The low lighting made it a perfect place to meet with such an unusual person. "I hope it wasn't too much of an inconvenience. I suspect you must be busy."

"I can always make time for Arisato-sama," Elizabeth-san replied, sitting in her chair. "His requests are very important to myself and to the Master. If I may be so presumptuous, it is an honour to speak to one of Arisato-sama's companions. Whenever we meet and once the matter of the Shadows is addressed, he speaks of all of you in great depth."

Mitsuru smiled, both at the comment and at the woman's strange appearance. Unlike when she'd first met Elizabeth-san at school, there was no blue gown to be found here. Instead the woman was dressed in a loose white blouse that was tied in a knot at the bottom, showing several inches of pale, flat stomach, and white capris with a red stripe running up the outside of each leg. In the place of her blue shoes, she was wearing small red flats and had a charm chain around her left ankle. And rather than her blue cap, she wore narrow glasses and a striking red bandana to hold her hair back. A thin watch on a chain and several gold bracelets adorned her wrist, looking perfectly in synch with her skin and yellow eyes, which were peering at her and dancing with a smile. Her entire air portrayed a sense of gleeful mischief and confidence, and it was easy to see why Arisato's classmates had referred to her as his "foreign girlfriend."

"You seem very fond of him," Mitsuru noted, sliding a menu over and perusing her own. "No one else speaks about him like that." It was hard to imagine anyone using the "-sama" honorific with him, actually. She knew that there were quite a few students who would eat a bowl of arsenic before they paid him that kind of respect.

"They simply don't know his significance," Elizabeth-san replied dismissively as she set her menu on the table, apparently knowing what she was going to order. "He shouldn't let such things bother him. It is because of Arisato-sama, and you and your comrades, that those people are allowed to live as normally as they do."

Mitsuru wanted to address Arisato's significance, as Elizabeth-san worded it, but she restrained her curiosity. He and Akihiko would be arriving soon, and they could all hear the details together. "What has he said about us?" she asked instead. Making small talk with Elizabeth-san was easier than she expected. In the past, Mitsuru had often found it difficult to speak to others just to fill up the time, wondering if her vocabulary was too advanced for the other person to follow or if the subject wasn't as interesting as she thought it was. But she felt none of those uncertainties with Elizabeth-san, and that was probably because the woman was so unusual in her own right. "It is difficult to get an unbiased opinion from the students at school, as I'm sure you can imagine." This would also be a good opportunity to learn about what Arisato had said and possibly use it against him later. Mitsuru couldn't deny that he was very cute when he blushed, which was why she ruffled his hair when she could.

"Of course," Elizabeth-san began, smiling and drawing each word out as she spoke. "He feels that Takeba-san uses up all the hot water when she showers, and he sometimes feels that it is out of spite rather than out of a desire for cleanliness. This apparently happened recently and he was quite unhappy about it, but he later conceded that he might have deserved it. However, he says that he relies on her and that he admires her passion, particularly when she is working with her kouhai at the archery range."

Mitsuru chuckled, waving the waiter over and placing her order. "I heard about that. It had to do with a misunderstanding among some of his classmates and some unfounded rumours. Takeba was rather unhappy with him, and she let all of us know it."

"He confesses to knowing nothing about owning dogs, and so he has had to read up on how to look after one," Elizabeth-san continued, "but he enjoys walking Koromaru-san in the mornings. Sanada-senpai has been quite inspiring to him on the subject of his physical fitness, apparently, and he looks forward to spending time running with him. When I was at your school, I heard from some of the students that proximity to Sanada-senpai and Koromaru-san has made Arisato-sama into a "chick magnet." I was not aware that he attracted baby fowl, and I admit that I have not seen the local birds treat him any differently than usual. Is this a new phenomenon that I haven't seen yet?"

Mitsuru nearly choked on some saliva when she heard those words. She knew that Arisato had become more popular with some of the girls in his grade since he'd started caring for Koromaru, but to hear him referred to as a "chick magnet" ruffled her feathers a little. He was her assistant. She was the one seeing him. No one else, no matter how many girls visited him at the hospital or asked about him in the hallways. As soon as he was discharged, she would have to make sure that he worked closely with her on a long-term project. Something that would involve them and only them. So she could make sure his wounds were healed and that his absence hadn't affected his performance, of course. She was tempted to ask if he had mentioned any other girls aside from the ones in the dorm, but decided against it. Much as seeing the younger girls, and even some in her own year, paw over him and make barely-veiled offers, she trusted him to be honest with her where his feelings were concerned. She turned the topic to something less touchy. "Have you ever heard of a dog possessing a Persona like Koromaru does? We were very surprised to see something like that happen."

"Of course," Elizabeth-san answered candidly, accepting her apple strudel from the waiter and taking a dainty bite. "It's not so unusual. Anyone with a strong enough will can manifest one, whether that comes from a human or an animal. I understand that one of your companions isn't entirely human, and yet she possesses one, so the idea isn't that unusual. Actually, it's not impossible for even a Shadow to manifest a Persona."

Mitsuru froze at the idea, her tea stopping halfway to her lips. "You mean that's possible?"

"I've never seen it happen before," Elizabeth-san clarified, "but it could happen, in theory. The Master has been quite interested in seeing if something like that happens."

Mitsuru calmed down a little after hearing that. The idea of a Shadow bringing a Persona to bear against them was truly frightening, but if Elizabeth-san hadn't seen one before, then such a thing must have been extremely rare. More rare than a dog that summoned the guardian of Hades, and hopefully rare enough that they would never encounter such a thing. In fact, with Strega breaking the rules about summoning a Persona and Metis having attacked them on sight, she was thinking of discarding everything she'd been told about Personas from her father and Ikutsuki and only go off of what was happening in front of her. It seemed like a far less confusing approach to take.

"Arisato-sama also likens Yamagishi-san to his deceased sister quite frequently," Elizabeth-san continued, sipping her tea. "He seems fond of her and has even expressed some feelings of protectiveness. He talks about how her cooking is improving, and how it was less than average when she started learning to do it."

"Has he spoken to you about his sister very much?" Mitsuru asked. Whenever he spoke about Arisato Minako, there was something a little bit off. Sometimes his expression was glassy and unfocused, other times he seemed confused like he was looking for a memory that he'd somehow lost. She felt that his family was a topic that held more significance than his record suggested, but couldn't back that suspicion up with any proof yet. "Because I have read the files on his background and what happened to his family, and it seems like there is more to it than what he says or even knows."

Elizabeth-san's smile went flat, her bearing changing from wily to walled off in a breath. "Have you asked him about this?" she asked quietly, leaning forward a little.

"There hasn't been an opportunity," Mitsuru told her, knowing the excuse was rather weak. "It's more of a feeling I have than something concrete, and I get the feeling that it's not something I can address with words, if that makes sense. Sometimes it feels like he's avoiding the subject and doesn't know he's doing it."

"Arisato-sama's past is his own," Elizabeth-san established, leaning back and folding her hands together, "so there is only so much that I can say on the topic. But you would not be mistaken if you noticed a change in him when he talks about it. Nor are your feelings, that there is more to it than even he knows, incorrect."

Mitsuru leaned in, curious that Elizabeth-san seemed to know so much about such an innocuous detail. "Why? Has he spoken to you about it? Do you know if there is more to what happened to his family than what the reports say?"

"Not in as many words, no. I'm afraid that the extent to which I can speak about this is limited."

"I promise not to tell anyone."

Elizabeth-san shook her head, no sign of her smile this time as even her eyes seemed more guarded. "It isn't about your promises, I'm afraid. There are some things that I cannot talk about, much the same as how my Master's responses will be limited. We are bound by rules, and those rules cannot be broken or avoided."

Mitsuru wanted, very much, to know who or what could impose such rules on someone like Elizabeth-san, but she kept her inquiries to the topics she could get information on. Perhaps this Master she spoke of had sworn an oath of some sort, and if so, then Mitsuru knew she couldn't push too hard. Still, the answer had been about how Elizabeth-san's responses were limited. Not entirely prohibited. "I won't ask about who or what is keeping you from speaking about him, but since you touched on the topic already, can I assume that there are some things that you can discuss?"

Elizabeth-san was silent for several seconds before answering, slow and deliberate. "It depends on the question, and what I can say will be vague at best."

"You don't need to be specific," Mitsuru told her, "but is there a reason why Arisato is different when speaking about his sister? If so, is that reason more than the simple trauma of losing a loved one?"

Elizabeth-san sipped her tea before putting three spoonfuls of sugar in it, smiling a little at the flavour that would have made Mitsuru gag. "There are some things I can say about that. To you and you alone, because I know how special you are to him."

Mitsuru blushed a little at that, and felt a smile grow at the thought of him expressing his feelings for her to others. The sentiment made her feel a little gooey inside. "I will take whatever you can give me."

"The change you see in him isn't only triggered by him talking about his sister," Elizabeth began after a moment, less guarded than she'd been a second ago. "If he speaks about his parents at all, or his life before they died, I suspect you will observe the same phenomenon. It is subtle, sometimes no more than a change in his voice or a shift in his eyes, and I doubt he realizes that he is doing it, but it is present and it is quite real."

Mitsuru remembered how he'd been when she took him to the windmills, the rapid shift in his expression and the way he carefully chose his words. "I've seen what you describe when he speaks about his parents as well. What is the cause of that?"

Elizabeth-san went quiet again, seeming to select her words before speaking them. "When Arisato-sama lost his family, that wasn't all that happened. Something else occurred nearby, something that is at the root of this change you are observing."

Mitsuru went cold as a thought bubbled to the surface of her mind. "I know that his family died when my grandfather's experiments went out of control and the larger Shadows escaped. Is his condition tied to that?"

"I cannot answer that," Elizabeth-san replied flatly.

"Do you know the details of what happened that night? Were the Shadows involved in Arisato losing his family? Was there more going on than what we have been told so far?"

"I cannot answer that," Elizabeth-san repeated. "Please stop asking for those details. I quite enjoy your company and I wouldn't like to have to leave over this."

Mitsuru leaned back a little. That was a sharper reaction than she'd expected. "Pardon me. I didn't realize that this was so dire a topic."

"Those answers will reveal themselves in time," Elizabeth-san told her, easing up a little. "One way or another, you will have your answers. If you survive the trials that are coming. When you get there, you will see the truth for yourself, especially if you remain this close to Arisato-sama. I will say this much, because Arisato-sama's state of mind is important to me and the Master: the source of his trauma is a powerful thing. A dangerous thing. You will know it when you see it, and I would encourage you to remain at his side. He will need you more than ever at that point, so I ask you to look after him when that happens."

Mitsuru's words stopped on her lips. Something about the words and the idea behind them loomed over her, reminding her of the Shadows. A tremor of fear and apprehension shivered through her, and she her voice rattled a little when she spoke. "Is it going to get that bad?"

"He will need you," Elizabeth-san said simply. "And you are closer to him than anyone. No one else can do what you can. When the time comes, please keep that in mind."

Mitsuru had to swallow twice before the feeling went away. "I see. Thank you for the advice, in that case."

"I am sorry for turning this conversation down such a dark route," Elizabeth-san told her. "It was not my intention. I enjoy your company quite a bit, and I can see that this has you concerned."

"I did ask," Mitsuru replied. "I wouldn't have done that if I couldn't handle the answers."

"You are strong," Elizabeth-san told her, smiling and looking like her normal self again. "I admire that. There are not many people who could do what you do, so seeing you accomplish your goals so well is encouraging."

Mitsuru gave a slight bow in response. "Thank you for your support, both now and up to this point. I don't think we would have gotten this far without you."

"You would have been fine; you had Arisato-sama to help you, after all," Elizabeth-san asserted before tilting her head a little. "May I ask a question?"

"Of course. What is it?"

"Would I be able to continue working on my wall mural? I was unable to finish it when I was at Arisato-sama's school, and I feel like it would be a disservice to such a thing to leave it incomplete."

Mitsuru blinked before smiling at the change in topic. It was a welcome reprieve from the direction the conversation had taken up to now. "There have been some offers on it, if you are interested in selling it when you are done. The art faculty have been going over it since you left, looking over the techniques you used and arguing about who your influences were." Mitsuru thought for a second, and then smiled, knowing how her next point would, as they said, send Arisato around the bend. "They have also inquired about your contact information. Some of them would like you to come to class as a guest so that you can teach the students and give them advice."

Elizabeth-san 's eyes lit up. "Aiding in instructing students? I'm very flattered. If Arisato-sama allows for it and doesn't find it inconvenient then I would be most honoured to visit your school again. But I don't think I could entertain any offers to sell my painting just yet. It's not finished, after all."

"Perhaps we can make some arrangements to have you finish it," Mitsuru offered, chuckling at the thought of how Elizabeth-san could shake up Arisato's reputation at school even more. "I have it kept safe and secure for now, so you could stop by and work on it whenever you like."

"That is very kind of you. I will take you up on your offer when time permits." Elizabeth-san took another drink of her tea before smiling. "I said it before, but I would like to emphasize that I am glad that Arisato-sama has met someone like you. You have been a prominent and positive figure for him since he arrived and I feel that he wouldn't have fared as well without your influence as he has so far."

This time, Mitsuru blushed a bit and felt oddly girly at the sentiment, shifting in her chair a little. "That's... very kind of you to say."

"The Master and I have been observing Arisato-sama since he arrived, and seeing his mental health remain consistent has been very encouraging. I believe that we owe you thanks in some part for your efforts in that regard."

"Has he said as much?" Mitsuru asked a bit hesitantly. "That I am a positive influence?"

"That is the impression I get when he speaks about you. It is not my place to say this, but I do hope that you will continue to be a strong force in his life."

"I will certainly try, Elizabeth-san."

"I am glad. Thank you for hearing my request." Elizabeth-san leaned forward then, eyes sparkling with glee. "Now, I must know where you bought that jacket. It looks positively sinful, and I would to love to know the brand of that blouse. Might we go clothes shopping when we are done here? I feel there is so much I can learn from you."

 

* * *

 

"He'll only be gone for a few hours," Akihiko assured the on-duty nurse. "It's something that can't wait."

"Kirijo-san made the arrangements already," the woman told him shortly. "I won't get in the way, even if I don't agree with it. Fast healing or not, that young man shouldn't be up and around right now."

"I'll make sure he's careful," Akihiko promised, clicking his tongue for Koromaru to follow him. "We'll be back in a few hours." He heeled his canine companion and walked down the hall to Arisato's room. "Are you ready?" he called into the room as he walked in.

"Almost," the younger student replied, letting out a short, pained breath as he tied his shoes.

Akihiko caught sight of the corner of the room and went over to investigate. The table that would normally be where Arisato's paperwork sat was half-covered in get-well cards from the various students who had come to visit him after word of his hospitalization had spread around the school. Judging by the number of pink cards and the calming incense sticks, Arisato was more popular with the girls than he let on.

Akihiko smirked. He couldn't wait to tell Mitsuru about this. He took a picture with his phone so he could send it to her later.

That said, the sentiments weren't all positive. The rest of the table space was taken up by curses from the local shrine, ema tablets stating the virtues of a good afterlife, and quite a few white funereal flowers. Lilies and chrysanthemums the colour of clean bone weighed down the table, and some of the students had even pitched in for a particular breed of hydrangea that was meant to comfort the family of the deceased. Akihiko remembered the looks the nurses and doctors had given the students who had dropped the plants off and how there had been talk of removing them and lodging a complaint with the school. "Leave them," Arisato had said. "They're not hurting anyone, and if my friends at school think they got to me here, then they'll leave my desk and shoe locker alone." In an effort to keep occupied, it seemed Arisato had taken to watering the plants and reading up on how to care for them, and they all looked as healthy as they would in a flower shop.

"Hey boy," Arisato greeted Koromaru, who was running circles and panting happily at the sight of the blue-haired patient. "Come to escort me? It seems that our senpai even have you loaded for bear."

It was true. When Mitsuru and Akihiko had spoken to Arisato and concocted this plan to get some answers from his mysterious benefactors, security had been a paramount concern given the nature of where they were going, especially given that there was less than two weeks until the next full moon. Koromaru was fitted with his Evoker collar, and Mitsuru had taken her Evoker in her purse when she'd gone to meet with Elizabeth-san. Akihiko's was in a holster attached to his belt at the base of his spine, hidden under his summer jacket. Given Arisato's condition, Akihiko and Mitsuru had insisted that his Evoker stay back at the dorm and that, in the event of a crisis, he refrain from getting involved in the fight. He argued with them for a while, but eventually gave ground on the matter when they pointed out the risks to his health that a fight at this point would represent.

Given how carefully Arisato was moving as he grabbed his coat, Akihiko noted, there was still a ways to go before he was back in fighting form. Maybe Takeba could be convinced to come in and try to speed up his healing. They needed everyone in as good of shape as they could be for the next fight with the Shadows.

"That's everything, Senpai," Arisato told him. "Let's go."

"Are your plants watered?" Akihiko asked dryly. "I wouldn't want you to neglect them."

"Watered and fertilized," Arisato replied with a wry smile. "I wonder if Mitsuru-senpai will let me take them home with me. The foyer could use some colour, don't you think?"

"I think you'll need some different colours if you want to convince her of that. Maybe she'll let you get away with it if you start growing roses. Why? Are you thinking of expanding your skill set into horticulture?"

Arisato shrugged. "It's relaxing, and more fun than I was expecting it to be. And they smell nice, don't you think?"

"If you want your room to smell like a funeral home," Akihiko told him with a shrug. "You're cleared at the front desk. Let's go."

They left Arisato's room and headed for the front doors. Arisato paused only to thank the nurses for their tender attentions, which earned him some giggles and several scowls, before they went to the sidewalk outside the hospital. In no time, a black Kirijo car stopped in front of them, sporting soft leather seats and a cool interior behind the tinted windows. When the three were loaded up, the car carried them down the street.

"How're you doing?" Akihiko asked, pulling some folders out of his attaché case.

"Everything still hurts," Arisato told him candidly. "Not as much as it did before, but my muscles are stiff and breathing wrong sets things off sometimes."

"They have you exercising, don't they?"

"Yeah," Arisato grunted. "As much as I can handle. The doctors say that everything's coming along okay, but the damage still has them spooked."

"Good," Akihiko noted. "That means they won't overlook anything."

"How's Mitsuru-senpai doing?"

Akihiko chuckled. Arisato tried to pass the question of as casual, but the way his voice softened a little when he mentioned her name spoke volumes about what was really going on in his head. If he acted like that in school, it wouldn't take very long before people suspected them of going out. "She's holding everything together. Lots of things are keeping her busy, and even if they didn't, it's not like she'd stay down for very long."

"Is she healing all right? She was in bad shape before."

"I asked her that a few days ago," Akihiko told his kouhai. "She had to get some stitches and patch work done, but she's back to normal now. A few more scars, that's how she said it."

Arisato frowned. "She's downplaying things, isn't she?"

"Probably," Akihiko replied with a shrug. "That's how she does things." Before Arisato could continue the conversation, Akihiko slapped a folder against his thigh. "We have some information on Metis. Mitsuru wanted me to brief you on it before we got to the mall."

Arisato winced and rolled his shoulder when he heard that name, but he nodded gamely. "Let's hear it."

Akihiko opened the folder for Arisato's benefit. He and Mitsuru had already read and discussed the information, and argued with the Kirijo technicians when they got to the end of it. "It seems she was around when the original experiments were going on ten years ago. She was an Anti-Shadow weapon like Aigis, and she was designed for killing or capturing Shadows."

"Capturing them? You mean The Kirijo Group went after the smaller Shadows too?"

"That's right. They did it for her grandfather's experiments. Seems the big Shadows weren't the only ones he had an interest in."

Arisato shook his head. "How does someone keep a Shadow and experiment on it? In a cage?"

"I have no idea," Akihiko replied, "but that's why there aren't many people who survived the lab going up in flames ten years ago. If it had just been the big ones we'd know more, but it's looking like the normal ones were what killed most of the staff and destroyed everything."

Arisato shook his head. "That's insane. I'm amazed that anyone would follow someone like that. How could they look at the Shadows when they went to work every morning and think that being around them was okay?"

"It is pretty crazy," Akihiko concurred.

"It's like something out of a bad anime," Arisato noted. "Evil zaibatsus set on conquering the world with shady research and conducting experiments that wind up killing everyone." He sighed. "What else?"

Akihiko flipped a few pages. "That thing she used that stopped us from using our Personas? That was part of her original programming. It seems like they made her able to restrain Personas, no matter how strong, because they were afraid that the kids they were experimenting on would go crazy or lose control of their powers. She was a safety precaution, if you can believe that."

"Was that common enough to warrant that kind of a precaution?"

Akihiko nodded, remembering some of the stories Mitsuru had told him. "These were kids being pushed until they manifested a Persona. Most of them probably had no idea what was going on. We only know a little bit of what they were put through. I'll spare you the details, but I can tell you that none of it is very pretty. Mitsuru said that some of them were so unstable that they could summon a Persona in their sleep or just by walking down the hall. Someone like Metis would have kept them from bringing the lab down until their powers stabilized."

Arisato looked sick. "They did that to children? Normal kids off the streets?"

"And out of the orphanages, which seems to be where they got Yoshino from," Akihiko supplied.

"That's sickening. Never mind the Shadows, how could the staff see that and still be okay with it?"

Akihiko said nothing. He knew what Arisato was going through, and he'd felt the same way when he was reading the files. It had taken two hours of boxing practice and punching bags before he'd calmed down enough to keep reading those files.

"Still, if Metis could stop them from hurting each other, then maybe they were able to be sort of okay," Arisato conceded. "When you put it that way, that doesn't sound so bad."

"I agree, especially since those drugs Hoshino takes were developed from that process. Seems someone thought they could free Metis up if they could keep the kids stable by drugging them. Of course, it didn't work. The drugs might help the bearer control their Persona, but it also makes the Persona violent toward them, like we've already seen."

"Do we know why she had them? Why is Strega using them?"

"No idea," Akihiko replied with a shrug. "Hoshino won't talk about it, even when we threaten to bring you in to see her."

Arisato gave a disgusted groan, leaning back in his seat. "Another dead end then. Great."

"Only to a point," Akihiko corrected. "Aigis connected with her before she died, or shut down if you want to call it that. We got some information out of that. It seems she met with Strega before we ran into her."

"Did we learn anything? Like why she attacked us?"

"Not really. Hey, I hear you," Akihiko told him when he saw the blue-haired student rolling his eyes. "You should have heard Mitsuru yelling at the techs when they told her that. She tore a strip off all of them and I think they were afraid she'd just fire them on the spot."

Arisato chuckled grimly. "Good on her. Did we learn anything about Strega from Metis?"

"She confirmed what you and Yamagishi said before about the guy who could summon a Persona without an Evoker. She didn't know why he could do it, but he was part of the reason she moved on. She also got some names on them, confirming what Yoshino told us: Shirato Jin and Sakaki Takaya. We ran some searches and weren't able to find much from anything dated in the last ten years. It seems they move around a lot, so what information we got on a base of operations is useless."

Arisato was quiet for a moment before speaking, his voice contemplative. "Metis seemed to be pissed off at me specifically. She acted like I was going to attack Aigis or something. I don't suppose we have any answers on that, do we?"

"Actually, we have plenty of answers, but none of them really fit," Akihiko replied. "Some of the engineers think her targeting matrix got damaged and she attacked you thinking you were a Shadow. Others said that Strega gave her a virus, which we know isn't the case because we scanned Aigis twice after we got back and she checks out fine. I even heard that they think she wasn't designed to be fighting for this long, so she began to develop some crazy tendencies and she just snapped."

"Which doesn't make sense because she would have been attacking people before then," Arisato concluded. "Is there anything we do know?"

"That we're almost at the mall," Akihiko replied, getting his things together. "And that we have more questions and fewer answers, so pretty much what you expected, right?"

"Very funny," Arisato groused as he stroked Koromaru's ears, taking a steadying breath. "Let's do this."

They got out of the car and walked toward the cafe where they were supposed to meet Mitsuru. Akihiko noticed Arisato stretching and testing his muscles as he walked, and that seemed to give him an excuse to avoid the various girls who cooed and squealed over Koromaru. It seemed the canine was rather popular, especially since he obeyed their instructions without needing a leash. Some of the people gave his Evoker-collar some strange looks, but didn't say anything.

"I'm glad you could make it," Mitsuru told them when they arrived. She was standing outside the cafe with Elizabeth-san standing next to her, and it seemed they'd been chatting to pass the time.

Akihiko concealed a smile at how Arisato and Mitsuru looked at each other almost immediately, and how they relaxed in the same way when they came into close proximity. He wished he'd recorded it so he could bring it up for them later. He'd be sure to tell Shinji about it.

"Greetings, Arisato-sama," Elizabeth-san told the shorter student happily. "I'm glad to see you again."

"You too, Elizabeth," he replied. "I hope we didn't keep you waiting."

"Not at all," Elizabeth-san told them. "We were just finishing up, and– Well hello!" she said suddenly, kneeling down to pet Koromaru. "Aren't you a handsome one! Such elegant fur, lovely red eyes, and perfectly trimmed nails. With such a gallant appearance, you must be descended from canine royalty. What esteemed company you keep, Arisato-sama. What is he called?"

"That's Koromaru," Arisato told her with a rueful smile. "But I don't think he's royalty like you say."

"Of course he is," Elizabeth-san insisted. "Such canny intelligence, such a lithe body, he must come from a long line of canine scholars and runners. That is the only explanation! Now, how are you, Koromaru-sama? Would you like to be carried like a good boy? Yes? Up you come!"

As Elizabeth-san picked up their happy and barking companion, Arisato shrugged to them. "I guess she speaks dog like Aigis does," he chuckled.

"I don't get the impression she's dangerous," Mitsuru told them, watching the strange woman as she lightly tossed Koromaru into the air and caught him before holding him across her chest. "A bit eccentric, but not a threat. Still, be careful."

Akihiko nodded, taking a closer look at his friend. There were stress marks at the corners of her eyes that hadn't been there when she'd gone to the mall. Was Elizabeth-san the sort to inspire concern? Or had their discussions been that tense? Arisato seemed to notice, but when Mitsuru noticed them looking at her, she shook her head and said nothing. Akihiko shrugged, discretely checking his Evoker before squaring his shoulders. "Are we good to go?"

Mitsuru's lips went up slightly in a smile. "As we'll ever be." She turned to their guest. "Elizabeth-san. Might we meet your employer now?"

"Of course," Elizabeth-san told them, still carrying Koromaru and scratching his stomach as she walked. "He will be glad to have company. Please, follow me." She led them to a nearby alley, talking the whole while. "I hope this means of transit is acceptable to you, Koromaru-sama. It is? Why thank you, I had noticed that our colours match as well. A most serendipitous set of circumstances, don't you think?" She walked right to the end of the alley and nodded at the empty space. "Here it is."

Akihiko looked at where she was pointing. "Uh... there's nothing there."

"Of course there is. It's right here, clear as day. Arisato-sama knows what I'm talking about, don't you?"

"I don't think they can see it, Elizabeth," Arisato informed her, stepping forward and reaching into his pocket for something. "Just a minute, let me see if this will help."

"You can see what she's talking about?" Mitsuru asked.

"Yeah. It's a door, and she's standing right next to it. I'll open it for us."

"Arisato." Mitsuru's voice was both sweet and chilling. "Have you known about this for very long?"

He cleared his throat. "I'm going to plead the Fifth on that one, Senpai."

"We will have to talk about this later, I think," she told him in the same tone. "A long, detailed talk."

Akihiko chuckled, feeling a bit more at ease with their banter. This was the first time he'd seen Mitsuru be this free with her feelings in public, and it was refreshing and a welcome change given all the crap they'd been through lately.

"Yes ma'am," Arisato replied as he pushed his hand forward, then pulled back. Like it had always been there, a glowing door with a blue outline popped into existence and swung open soundlessly, revealing a dark room on the other side.

"We should go in quickly," Elizabeth-san told them, stepping forward. "The less time it stays open, the better." Still carrying Koromaru, she swiftly went through the door and disappeared as soon as she crossed the threshold.

"I'll close it behind us," Arisato told them.

Akihiko nodded, checked his Evoker one more time, and stepped through with Mitsuru close behind.

Vertigo rippled across them, and Akihiko had to steady his steps as he walked forward. The alley and the noise of shoppers around him disappeared, and instead of stepping onto concrete, his feet sank into plush rug. Instead of the skylight of the mall, the room was dark with rising lights at the back. Was that the grate of an elevator? It must have been, because just above it was the old model of floor indicators that looked like a clock. Were they in a museum?

"I see we have guests," a low voice tinged with knowledge and power told them from a chair and table in front of the grate. "Welcome to the Velvet Room. Elizabeth has spoken of you. Ahh, there you are, my dear young man."

"Thanks for agreeing to meet with us, Igor," Arisato said. "My friends were hoping that you could answer some of their questions, and I have a few of my own."

"We are here to serve our Contractor," the short hunchback in a sharp suit, apparently named Igor, told them. "Some proper introductions are in order, however."

"Yes, Master," Elizabeth-san replied formally. "This is Sanada Akihiko, and this is Kirijo Mitsuru. And this lovely fellow," she gushed, scratching the dog under the chin and getting reflexive kicks in return, "is Koromaru-sama, Arisato-sama's prized companion of canine royalty."

Arisato smiled a bit ruefully as Mitsuru looked around, eyes narrow and genius mind no doubt trying to figure out just where they were. Akihiko bowed politely, and no further down than was polite. "It's a pleasure. Thanks for having us."

"I am Igor," the man said, "and you have already met Elizabeth. She has spoken of this since you first made the inquiry, and I am glad to see her so pleased. We don't often have new guests here, so please, make yourselves comfortable."

"This is wonderful, Master," Elizabeth-san told him, taking a seat with Koromaru curled up in her lap. "I have never met such an esteemed fellow as Koromaru-sama."

"You no doubt have many questions, so shall we begin with your inquiries?" Igor asked, gesturing for them to come closer. Two more chairs flickered into existence, plush and well made.

"You go first," Arisato told them as he sat in one of the soft chairs near the table. "I can wait."

Akihiko nodded to Mitsuru, letting her take the stage as they took seats of their own.

"We have some questions regarding the Shadows," she asked, "and why they seem to be linked to Arisato. We have observed what seems to be a connection between him and the Shadows that appear on the nights of the full moon. I'm sure you know the ones I'm referring to."

"I do," Igor replied simply. "They are the ones who are driving events to their conclusion."

"It seems that the information we have is inadequate to properly understand just what they are and why they are here. Can you enlighten us? We would appreciate any information that you can offer."

"There is only so much that I can say," Igor informed them. "They are Shadows that cause the appearance of the Lost by devouring the spirits of those who are caught in the Dark Hour. Without them, the Lost would be so small a problem as to be unnoticeable. You know this already, don't you?"

"We know about that much, yes."

Igor shrugged over his folded hands. "Then you know as much as you need to. You know what the Shadows do and how to prevent more Lost appearing."

"But the larger ones exist," Mitsuru insisted. "And we know very little about them. Where did they come from?"

"You will learn that in due time," Igor told her. "There is no way that you won't. Knowing their origins wouldn't change anything. You are on the course of destroying them, and that is what you must do if you want to prevent the Lost from growing in number. Beyond that, there is very little to say."

"You're speaking like you can see the future. Is that the case?"Mitsuru asked. Igor shrugged but said nothing. Elizabeth-san kept playing with Koromaru, but otherwise didn't address the question. Mitsuru tried a different angle. "How much of this, the Shadows and the Dark Hour, has to do with my grandfather's experiments?"

"Your grandfather? Who would that be?"

"Kirijo Kouetsu."

Igor shrugged again, a look of indifference on his face. "I do not know the name. He was not a Contractor, nor did he meet with us. Whatever his ambitions, and whatever role you say he played in affairs up to this point, his importance is insignificant."

"He caused all this, though," Mitsuru told him. "He experimented on the Shadows and he caused the Dark Hour. His research caused an immeasurable amount of suffering to people and we are still seeing the effects of his actions today. No one else was trying what he was, nor did anyone else have the resources to do what he did. In the face of all this, how can he be insignificant?"

Igor shifted his hands a little, but otherwise didn't change in the slightest. "Just because he was the cause of things as you see them does not mean that he was the only reason those events occurred. I mean this respectfully, but if you feel that all of what has happened is tied to one person, a person you are related to, then you should let go of your filial guilt and overactive sense of responsibility. Not everything that has happened up to this point has occurred solely because of him. In fact, many of these things would have happened anyway, had someone else set the events in motion or not. This Kirijo Kouetsu of yours was simply someone who brought things forward before they were originally planned, but his actions were not so grand that he caused the Shadows and the Dark Hour on his own."

"Wait," Akihiko spoke up, "you mean this was supposed to happen? Like fate? How does that work?"

"If you throw a rock at a pond, was the rock always fated to be there?" Igor inquired. "Or was that just a logical event to happen given where the pond and rock were located?"

"We're not rocks and ponds, are we?"

"But we are subject to the same rules," Igor insisted. "Throw a rock into the air, and it will fall to the ground. Or back into your hand, but in both cases, the rock will fall. Some would call this fate, an intangible thing that we cannot see or understand. Others say it is the effect of gravity, a universal force we are all bound by. I am partial to the second view, myself. Your Kirijo Kouetsu might have been the one to throw the rock up, but the rock was going to go up anyway. He was just the means the rock used to get there. Where you and our Contractor are concerned, these events were set into motion and the rock was already beginning to fall when you became aware of the direction you were going in. That it was in the air because of Kirijo Kouetsu and that it might hit the hand of the person who threw it, or perhaps roll once it lands, is just a detail to the fact that the rock rose into the air before and is now falling. Similarly, there is only so much that can happen or change before the rock hits the ground."

"Then what set all these events in motion, if it wasn't my grandfather?" Mitsuru asked. "And what is the bigger picture of the rock, to use your analogy?"

Igor sighed. "That is a question beyond my capacity to answer. As I said, there are some things I simply cannot discuss."

"So you have rules, maybe even other masters, to answer to?"

Igor chuckled, and the sound wasn't very pleasant. "We all do. Elizabeth and myself are simply here to fulfill a purpose. That purpose may be minor or of paramount importance, but it is why we are here, and we answer to our own masters in order to accomplish those goals. I cannot share the details, but the events of years far before now set these days in motion. How they happened and why we are here is a question of semantics, whether you call it fate or the logical steps of history. What matters is that they were always going to happen, and Elizabeth, myself, and a Contractor are here to see these events through to the end."

"Is that why you can't tell us certain things?" Mitsuru asked. "Because we might interfere with that outcome?"

"Interfere..." Igor tested the word, rocking back and forth in his chair. "That is not the best word for what I am talking about. My concern is that you will act in a way that lowers your chances of victory. Understand that we are very interested in seeing our Contractor prevail, but knowing too much will make you act in ways that might render victory impossible. For your best chances of survival to be preserved, there are things you cannot know until later. Ideally, you will learn them on your own and adapt accordingly."

"It seems insane that these Shadows were always going to be here," Mitsuru noted. "What could have that kind of power? What governs them? In fact, where is the rock going in the first place? And why is it in motion?"

"The answer to those questions all come back to one place. I cannot give you that answer, however, for the reasons I already stated."

"I have a question," Arisato told him, stepping forward. "Is this where the Appriser comes in?"

Elizabeth-san drew in a sharp breath, and Igor's eyes narrowed. Koromaru squirmed his way out of Elizabeth-san's lap and moved next to Arisato's leg, beginning to growl. The air went tense, and Akihiko reached for his Evoker.

"Where did you hear that name?" Igor asked coldly.

"From the Shadow we fought just around the corner in the mall," Arisato supplied. "It seemed to recognize me, and it said "Appriser" before it died. The other Shadows have recognized me to some degree, so it can't be a coincidence. If you're talking about something that is bigger than the Shadows, something that could set all these events in motion and go to one place no matter what we do, then is this Appriser part of the equation?"

"The Appriser is different," Igor told them after a long, uncomfortable moment. "It is tied to the Shadows, but different from them. You are not the cause of these events, young man, if that is what you are wondering."

"But there is something at work that the others don't feel, right?" Arisato pressed. "Something unique to me? Is that why I'm your Contractor?"

"That is difficult to answer," Igor sighed.

"I don't think I can leave here without some answers, Igor. I need something to go on."

"No, my dear young man, you do not," Igor replied bluntly. "As I said, you are on the path you should be on, and it is taking you to the conclusion that we are waiting for. The answers you have are sufficient for you to continue killing the Shadows. All will be revealed in time if you do that."

"But I'm asking you the questions, here, now, as your Contractor, because I want to know what's going on. Otherwise I can't be sure that I'll be able to succeed how you need me to."

There was another long silence, this one a bit less tense than before.

"Very well," Igor conceded. "I will tell you what I can, which is still very little."

Akihiko let out a hard breath and pulled his hand from his Evoker. Koromaru had stopped growling and walked back over to Elizabeth, who picked him up and continued patting him but remained silent.

"Anything would help."

Igor waved his hand and the cards of the major arcana appeared on the table. "The Appriser is the edge on which all this rests. You might say that he is the reason that, after falling, the rock rolls to one side or the other. In some possible futures, the Lost overtake the world and the Shadows devour us all. In others, the Appriser is what destroys the Shadows and saves the world of man. It is the Fool in the arcana. Raw potential with the power to accomplish the impossible, or to fail to fulfill his purpose and allow events to progress as they would have anyway. It will not be by a single choice that you make, nor by many small ones, but you will be at the centre of the events that shift the world from one side to the other. That is the Appriser, and his path is revealed through the Shadows he kills. That is why there is little more I can tell you: you are already on the road you were set to be on. As you walk down that road, more of your questions will be answered, as will the questions that you will have as you progress. Nothing else you think or do will change where you need to be or what you need to do."

Arisato let out a bracing breath. "That's a lot of responsibility to carry."

"The Contractor's power is such that he will have the potential to be strong enough to fulfill his goals. Whether he does so or survives that long is unknown, but we would not have given you this task if you weren't able to achieve it. Continue as you are and everything will become clear."

"Do you know who Pharos is?" Arisato asked suddenly.

"I do not know the name," Igor admitted.

"He's a kid, looks around ten years old, and he's been visiting me after the Shadows die ever since I arrived."

The old man tapped the table and didn't answer.

Mitsuru and Akihiko shared a quick look. They'd heard nothing about this. "Wait," Mitsuru brought up. "Is he the boy you were asking about when you arrived? You asked if anyone had a little brother at the dorm, and I just thought you were seeing things."

"He is also something you cannot change," Igor replied, this time speaking carefully. "Knowing more about him would alter how you act and respond, and that is an unnecessary risk. I will say that he does not mean to harm you, and he will guide you to the conclusion of this affair. While he is not your ally, he is also not your enemy."

"I don't mean this in a bad way, but that sounds like you and Elizabeth in a way."

Igor chuckled. "That is an apt description, yes. We orbit your star, young man, and while we can give you direction, we are not able to directly interfere."

"I'd like to know what sort of power someone could have to impose these rules on you," Arisato commented. "I get the feeling that you and Elizabeth could easily handle these problems without me or any of us."

"We have our place," Igor noted. "You are not wrong in your assessment, but there is a reason why you are our Contractor. We would not do this without due cause."

"Where do the rest of us fit into this?" Mitsuru asked. "Compared to Arisato and his connection to the Shadows, we're rather mundane, aren't we?"

"You belong where you have been up to this point. The Contractor might be an important piece of the puzzle, but he is not the only one. Without all of you, there is no way that he would have made it this far. Each of you is as vital a part of these events as he is even if you have not been consulted directly, and you have all accomplished your duties so far with admirable grace. My hope is that you will continue to support him and carry him forward to the conclusion of these events. There is little I can say that needs to be done differently."

Mitsuru nodded and smiled a bit. Akihiko felt the same way. With everything that they'd been through and the sudden raising of the stakes, it was good to know that they were on the right course.

"What about Strega?" Arisato asked next. "They're a group of Persona-Users who have been fighting us recently. What do you know about them? Do they play a role in all this?"

Igor turned to his assistant, gesturing to her. "Elizabeth, would you like to answer this question?"

"Of course, Master," she replied. "What you are asking is a simple enough matter. You are speaking of the other Persona-Users who travel the Dark Hour?"

"That's right," Arisato confirmed.

"They are irrelevant," Elizabeth-san announced.

The three SEES members were silent for a few seconds, waiting for more. "That can't be all there is to it," Akihiko objected. "They've set traps for us, manipulated the Shadows, kidnapped some of our people and tried to kill the rest. How can they be irrelevant?"

"In the greater picture of the Shadows, they are irrelevant," Elizabeth-san clarified. "Their actions are significant to you because they move in opposition to your goals. They seek to build the number of the Lost as an extension of their own ideals, and they will work to stop you at every turn if they can. But the Shadows are not their allies, nor are their actions of any significance beyond their opposition to you."

"Pharos said the same thing when I asked him," Arisato noted. "Are you saying that because they cannot affect what's going on? Or is it because you are focused on the Shadows and where they are concerned, Strega can't do anything besides fight us?"

"The latter option is the closest to being accurate, Arisato-sama."

Akihiko let out a terse breath. That line of inquiry was getting them nowhere. "What about their Personas? Why is one of them able to fight us without using an Evoker?"

"There are other Persona-Users who are able to do that," Elizabeth-san mentioned. "Is this one special in some way?"

"We've been told up to now that the only way that we can use a Persona is with an Evoker," Mitsuru supplied. "Is that a lie?"

"Not entirely, no. You are able to use your Personas safely because of your Evokers. Anyone who circumvents this rule, with the exception of our Contractor, is at risk of harming their body, sometimes irreparably. No one can handle the rigors of that kind of power without the necessary safeguards."

"Sakaki can do it," Arisato told them. "And he didn't look like he was in pain."

"People can handle many horrible things if they have a reason to do so, young man," Igor told them. "Look at yourself in that regard."

"That's a fair point," Arisato conceded. "He was unusual though. He seemed to know who I was, and his Persona looks like a flayed angel, like something out of Hell."

Elizabeth-san's smile grew a bit mysterious then, and less warm. "His path and yours lead to the same place, Arisato-sama. He seeks to affect a great change in people, the same change that the Shadows are creating. He is your antithesis, and your goals are mutually exclusive to his. He is irrelevant where the Shadows are concerned, and your path would remain the same whether this Sakaki was present or not. But if you continue to fight the Shadows, he will be your enemy, for reasons that are his own."

"So there's no way to get around him," Arisato noted grimly. "I'm glad there's that much, at least."

"I have faith in you, Arisato-sama. Overcome this unruly foe and proceed forward!" Elizabeth-san commanded with gusto, a fierce grin on her face.

They all chuckled, the air a bit lighter now. "Thanks Elizabeth, and thank you for your time," Arisato told them, rising to his feet. "This is a lot to take in, and I will need to go over it all for now."

"You are always welcome here, my dear young man," Igor assured him. "Your friends, I must say, were more accepting of this than I expected. Ensure that you attend to your connections with them. They are invaluable. Thank you for visiting us, and please come back anytime."

"Sometime soon, Arisato-sama, Koromaru-sama," Elizabeth called.

They left the Velvet Room, and in a flash they were back in the mall.

"Strange place," Akihiko noted looking at his watch. They'd only been gone for a minute in real time.

"Very," Mitsuru replied sullenly.

Akihiko knew that look and planned to head it off before she got depressed. "Arisato, I have a job for you. I think Mitsuru needs some time off. She's been working hard lately, and it's starting to get to her."

Mitsuru gave him a blank look. "What are you talking about, Akihiko? And why are you sticking your nose in my life?"

"Because I'm your friend, Mitsuru. And as your friend, I'm telling Arisato here that he should take you out on a date."

Arisato blinked and said nothing. Mitsuru blinked and said quite a bit.

"A w-what?! Why– When– H-how did you know?"

"Arisato was asking questions before, and I saw you at the festival together," Akihiko supplied smoothly. "He's able to get day passes from the hospital and you need something to take your mind off things. It's a perfect plan."

"Why are you making this decision for us?!"

Akihiko grabbed Arisato's shoulders lightly. "I'm trusting you with this. Make sure she has a good time, all right? Plan a day and make the most of it. You haven't succeeded until she's having fun."

Arisato, to his credit, just smiled and went with the flow, nodding confidently. "I will, Senpai. Thanks."

"Don't decide this without talking to me first!" Mitsuru flared, her face indignant and almost as red as her hair.

"Sometimes that's what you need," Akihiko told her calmly. "Arisato, I'm counting on you." And before they could say anything, he turned and left, chuckling as he heard Mitsuru fuming behind him. The sound did his heart good. Now, finally, she could let things go and start moving forward with her life, and he had Arisato to thank for that.

 

* * *

 

It was late that same night when Mitsuru entered the command room, closing and locking the door behind her. She closed her eyes in the darkness, enjoying the quiet and solitude for the moment she had it. The day had been quite busy, not the least of which was because of Akihiko's comment when they'd left the Velvet Room. She'd wanted to throttle him for bringing up her relationship with Arisato like that, poking his nose where it didn't belong. This was her relationship, after all, and she didn't need anyone else interfering with it.

That Arisato had taken up the torch and held her hand after that comment, though, brought an unrestrained smile to her lips. She even giggled when she remembered how her boyfriend – it still gave her very pleasant shivers to think of Arisato like that – had set down a day and time for them to meet. "It'll be a real date this time, Senpai," he'd promised her while she was still processing how effectively Akihiko had set her up. "I'll make sure everything goes according to plan." Once she'd gotten her mental faculties back under control, she'd asked what they would be doing and how she should dress. His answer had been rather unhelpful. "You look great in everything, Senpai," he'd told her with a smile that was beginning to make her heart rate rise whenever she saw it. "I have our schedule worked out already, so don't worry about it." She wasn't worried, per se, but she did want to know where they would be going in case anything went wrong and they needed to get back to the dorm in a hurry. He'd shaken his head when she told him that and wouldn't let her get involved with the plans from that point on, no matter how much she pushed him.

Her smile widened as she leaned against the door. Her hand still felt warm where he'd held it before he had to go back to the hospital. While she was no closer to having her answers on her date with him, it felt good to have someone else make her plans for her, which was unusual since such a turn of events should have driven her insane. Not with Arisato, though. He was getting to her in completely new ways, and she was finding that she truly didn't mind.

The command room's computer chimed with an incoming call, and Mitsuru pushed her emotions to the side and prepared for work in the dead of night. "Mitsuru here," she said after she sat down and opened the connection, nodding politely to the man on the computer screen. "Hello Father."

"Things are going well, I presume?" he inquired after returning her greetings.

"As well as we can hope for," she told him. "Arisato's recovery is still progressing, but we're not sure if he will be able to fight by the next full moon. We don't want to push him too hard on the chance he makes things worse."

"I checked our files," Father began. "I've never heard of anything like what he did to himself. Even the children that Kouetsu tested and experimented on didn't show symptoms like that."

Mitsuru nodded. Father took the blame for her grandfather's crimes in public as a means of saving face, but he always referred to the man by his name when speaking to her. It was a callous gesture of disrespect in Japanese culture to do so, and Father wasn't so crude as to do it around anyone else. But with her, his contempt for the man truly shone through. "I'd be surprised if we had any precedents to go off of," she admitted. "Nothing about Arisato seems to adhere to what we know about Personas or Shadows."

"Most of what we're working off of came from Ikutsuki and his research," Father noted, leaning forward thoughtfully. "Is he hiding things from us again?"

"I don't think so," Mitsuru replied, straightening in her seat. "He has been misleading in the past and I'm still not certain I can trust him, but this isn't something he could have known about. We haven't seen any traces of internal damage with Yoshino, and I can only assume that the men Arisato fought in the alleys weren't bleeding on the inside either. This is a unique case, so we can't expect Ikutsuki to know about it. If anything, the blame lies with the engineers for letting Metis out in the first place and not having her under closer guard."

"That has been dealt with," Father told her shortly.

"That said," Mitsuru continued, confident in the soundproof room and her own scans for any bugs or microphones, "Ikutsuki is not above suspicion where the Shadows are concerned. Things are changing too much for him to have just been wrong all this time."

"I will play devil's advocate this time," Father said with a small smile, "but isn't it possible that he simply didn't know that there was more to the Shadows than what Kouetsu researched? If he wasn't looking for the same things we are, then it would make sense that he doesn't know what they are capable of, and scientists are a proud, foolish bunch on a good day."

"I would agree with that if we weren't wrong in so many ways," Mitsuru replied after a moment to collect her thoughts. "People being able to summon Personas without Evokers is something that should have been covered years ago, same as the origins and natures of the Shadows we are facing. The answers we were given before Arisato arrived made sense because we had nothing to compare them to, but now it feels like there is something else going on. There's too much that is wrong with what we were told, and if Ikutsuki is just an absent-minded researcher who somehow missed all these points, then I question if we should rely on him at all. If he's not hiding things, then he's obtuse, and we can't afford either of those things."

"That's a harsh angle to take," Father commented. "But I don't disagree. I think we should keep him at the dorm for observation, as well as to avoid changing the dynamic with the others. Otherwise you and Arisato give your reports to me while I find someone else to tell us what is going on. Unless you think we should dismiss him right now?"

Mitsuru was torn. As cold as it might have seemed, she was prepared to cut Ikutsuki from the dorm roster. His lack of answers and various secrets were becoming a liability, and as much of an asset as Aigis had become, as useful as Ikutsuki had been in the beginning, the fact that Mitsuru and her father were relegated to collecting information on the Shadows and threatening the engineers was proof in her mind that they didn't need the odd-humoured man as much as they had before. Furthermore, since she'd gotten back from her meeting with Elizabeth-san and Igor-san she'd had a feeling of impending unease. The stakes were rising beyond what they expected, and she felt like their whole team had been given the wrong impression from the beginning. Ikutsuki bore at least some of the blame for that.

On the other hand, she couldn't prove that Ikutsuki did any of this deliberately. She and Akihiko, who had been fighting this battle the longest, were only now learning about the Shadows and expanding their horizons on Personas. Everything had been going according to what she knew before, and it wasn't until Arisato arrived that the rules were proven to be mere suggestions. Could she blame Ikutsuki for not knowing the depth of the crisis they were in when she herself knew just as little? There was also the matter of the dorm dynamics. Mitsuru wouldn't have minded if Ikutsuki were replaced, and she knew that Akihiko and Shinjiro were of the same mind. But Yamagishi enjoyed the man's company, Aigis spoke to him regularly, and Takeba might see the sudden replacement of the dorm administrator as some sort of Kirijo tyranny. And finally, whatever the man's faults, he was still useful in their operations. Amada would have been left unknown if Ikutsuki hadn't investigated him, and Koromaru might not have survived without the contacts Ikutsuki possessed. Was there someone who could take his place and fit in with all of them as easily as they needed?

Mitsuru sighed. She hated having to make choices based on necessity rather than practicality. "After the Shadows are dealt with, I feel like he should be removed," she concluded. "But doing so now carries too many problems."

"That's the best choice," Father told her. "What else is there to report?"

"We met with Arisato's benefactors today," she replied. "Some people he has been in contact with for some time and neglected to talk about."

Father's eyebrows raised. "That's a problem. Perhaps a greater one than Ikutsuki, don't you think?"

"I can understand his reluctance to talk about this," she defended. "With so many peculiarities surrounding him, he worries about how the rest of the group will perceive him. He's already had altercations with Iori and Takeba over things that weren't in his control, and the similarities he has to the members of Strega bother him more than he says. Akihiko and I visited these people with him today to confirm that they weren't a threat."

Father's eyes hardened, but he leaned back in his chair. "What did you learn?"

Mitsuru recounted her meeting with Elizabeth-san and Igor-san, leaving out none of the details. Even Arisato's questions were repeated verbatim.

"Appriser," Father mused. "I've heard that epithet before. Kouetsu talked about it before he died."

"I don't remember using that word," Mitsuru told him with a frown.

"You wouldn't have. I'd taken you home by that point. I thought Kouetsu made the word up out of arrogance, but if Arisato's contacts have mentioned it, then there is something bigger at work here." Father tapped some keys on his computer. "Do you believe this man when he says that Kouetsu was truly that insignificant?"

Mitsuru let out a breath, expecting the question. "I find it very hard to believe that we've been this wrong where he is concerned, honestly. Everything we know points to him being the catalyst for the Dark Hour and the architect for the Shadows and the Lost, and Igor-san didn't offer a better explanation of why we have these things now or how they would have come to pass otherwise. However, Arisato seems to believe him and Elizabeth-san, and what they explained at other times made a great deal of sense. I'm not saying I believe them in that regard, but it is a viewpoint that might have some merit."

Father tapped the desk for a moment, his face turning grim. "If Kouetsu's research and actions were truly so minor that the Shadows would have become a threat no matter what we did, then what he did was even more inexcusable. It makes things worse, actually."

"We will have to find ways to correct this problem," Mitsuru told him, thinking of Yoshino in the hospital and what she'd said about the Kirijo Group's research.

"No," Father replied shortly. "That's not your burden to bear."

"If it is your burden, then it is also mine," Mitsuru insisted stubbornly.

"And perhaps that was our mistake," Father answered bluntly. "What this Igor told you about letting go of your familial guilt. He's not wrong. Perhaps that is something we both need to deal with."

"It is on us to fix these things and make amends for the past, Father. Who else is going to do it if we don't?"

"There comes a time when an action cannot be fixed or corrected, Mitsuru. What happened back then was not your fault, no matter what you think, and what you are doing now by fighting the Shadows is more than anyone could ask for. We have been so set on fixing these mistakes that perhaps we have been letting it determine where we are going, and you deserve better than to be in Kouetsu's shadow for the rest of your life."

Mitsuru thought of what Elizabeth-san said to her, about her being shut away and on her guard even during a casual meeting. She thought of how Shinjiro and Akihiko had argued with her about her "martyr complex" when they were younger. She recalled the times when she'd wanted to be more normal and have fun like the other girls, maybe try going out with a handsome boy who had caught her attention. Every time she'd thought those things, she walked away, thinking of the damage her name had caused and contemplating what grand gesture would make it better. "If I am in a position to help these people, then I should do so," she insisted, though her reply was weaker than usual. Igor-san's words had cut right to the core of a belief she'd held for a decade, and just the idea of moving past it felt alien to her.

"Help them for your own reasons, then," Father advised. "Do it because it is what you want to do. Don't let Kouetsu's sins change your life. You are too young for that."

"Could you do the same thing, Father?"

He sighed. "I doubt it," he admitted. "But if Igor is correct, then us burdening ourselves would only make us miserable while Kouetsu laughs at us. I will give the matter some thought if you do. Will that suffice?"

"It will, Father. Thank you."

He nodded again. "I'm going to look into Arisato's background. His parents, how they died, where he got these powers and why he seems to be at the center of all this. Since Ikutsuki is under suspicion, it will be between you and me."

"I'd appreciate it."

"Do you feel like this changes anything?" Father inquired.

"About what?"

"About everything. It sounds like Arisato has become central to this conflict. If that is the case, then you may need to take him off the combat roster or keep him under observation. Better that than him becoming a problem we can't control, don't you think?"

Mitsuru had to collect herself for a moment. She hadn't thought of that. It was a practical point given just how powerful Arisato was becoming, but the thought of curtailing him had never occurred to her. If he were put in isolation, he wouldn't be able to help the others. And she wouldn't be able to see him anymore. "I don't think that would help," she replied, heart in her throat. "Not only is Arisato an important part of the group, but Elizabeth-san insinuated that he is the best chance for us to solve this problem. Whatever direction that takes us in, I think that it is in our best interests to trust him and let him do what he has been doing so far."

Father stared at her for several moments, saying nothing.

"I also feel," she added, "that he is the best chance at getting to the truth of the Shadows. His connection with them seems to be growing. If we can understand what they are saying during the next full moon, then the answers we have been looking for might be within reach."

Her father let out a long breath before nodding. "I want you to report everything to me where he is concerned. I trust your judgment, but if he begins to become a problem or if his connection to the Shadows endangers us, then we will need to respond accordingly."

"I will," Mitsuru promised.

Father looked like he wanted to say something, but stayed silent.

Mitsuru cleared her throat and blushed. She had been thinking about how to tell him this for weeks, how she was going out with someone now and wanted Father's blessing. But her mind flailed about and gave her countless insane scenarios of how he might respond, what he might do, and what she would have to say to keep everything stable. But as much as keeping her relationship to herself might have been prudent, she didn't want to be one of those girls who saw boys behind her parents' backs. She loved Father too much for that. "There is something else I want to talk about," she began hesitantly. "Something regarding Arisato."

"Go on."

"This also involves me." She took a few breaths while her mind gave her hundreds of lines and words to use, none of which were helpful in the least. "Arisato and I have... begun a... partnership. Of sorts."

Father blinked a few times while Mitsuru buried her face in her hands. Where had that come from?! A partnership?! They weren't starting a business together, and that wasn't even how she felt about it!

"You two have been partners since you assigned him as the SEES field leader," Father noted. "Are you expanding on that?"

Mortified, Mitsuru tried again. "It's not as professional as that. And partnership isn't the right word. It's more that... well... Arisato has expressed an... interest, let's say, in me. A personal one."

Father's eye widened and he straightened in his chair. "Do you mean a romantic one, by chance?"

"Y-yes, that's right." Good lord, when was the last time she'd stuttered like that?

"He has proposed this relationship to you? Has he been out of line while doing it?"

"No! I mean, yes, he proposed it, and I have been entertaining the notion. And he hasn't been out of line. Actually, if anything, I have been... well, I wouldn't say encouraging it, but I went to him and took the first step. You might say."

Father rubbed his face, his expression obscured. "It sounds like there is a story behind this," he commented once his hands were back in front of him. "Give me the details."

"Are you sure this isn't taking you away from something?"

"I can take the time to listen to my own daughter, Mitsuru," Father informed her a bit sternly. "Especially if a boy is pursuing her romantically. Start from the beginning, and don't leave anything out."

Mitsuru took a few bracing breaths and recounted what she felt were the times when her relationship with Arisato was growing past being strictly platonic. From her question about fast food on the beach of Yakushima to their lunch dates that followed while she wore the Ajisen Ramen shirt. Her taking him out on her motorcycle to their sparring match. And finally, him asking her out to the festival and their growing closeness in the weeks that had followed. She found it was much easier when she spoke like the events were status reports: that way her words and breathing were much steadier, as much as her heart was racing.

"And how do you feel about all this?" Father tensely asked when she was done.

What a question. How did she feel about this? It was so far outside the norm of what she was used to, so different from how other boys had asked her out in the past. One phrase came to mind that best summed up her feelings, however, so she used it. "I don't dislike the time I spend with him," she told her father. "It's very easy to be around Arisato and say what's on my mind, and I am confident that he enjoys the time we spend together."

"Platonically," Father stated. "In your first dates."

Mitsuru trembled pleasantly at the word "dates." The idea of her being able to have a relationship like a normal girl was still fresh and wobbly to her, but she liked the warm rush that the implications gave her. "That's right. We're testing the waters and seeing where things go. Nothing beyond that has happened. I promise."

"I suspected as much. You'd be acting differently if things weren't going well," Father remarked.

"So..." she hedged, not sure how to word what she had in mind, "what do you think? Is this, um, acceptable?"

"What do you mean? Are you expecting me to tell you to stop?"

"I don't know what to expect," Mitsuru admitted. "This is the first time this has ever come up, isn't it?"

Father let out a long breath. "Yes, it is. And you could do worse than Arisato. He's not someone you will have to lie to or work around where the Shadows and your Persona are concerned. He also knows what your background is and hasn't tried to use it against you."

Mitsuru was lost for words for a moment. Was her father condoning her relationship? Were things actually going to go this easily for her? "Are you supporting us going out?"

"It's not my place to tell you to stop," Father noted. "You looked happy when you were talking about the dates you have been on and the time you've spent with him. That means more to me than whether or not I completely approve of him. Like I said, you can do much worse."

"I just... I thought you might object. This isn't how you and Mother got together, after all."

Father's face softened. "No, it isn't. But that's not a bad thing. If she were here, she'd tell you to do what makes you happy. She'd never let me rest if I stopped you now. If you are happy being with Arisato, truly happy and not holding back or compromising, then I trust you to do what you feel is right."

"Is it our place to do this?" Mitsuru asked quietly. "So much is depending on us, and there's so much work to do to fix what Grandfather did, and–"

"Stop," Father ordered sharply. "Don't continue that thought."

"But–"

"Not. Another. Word," he told her in a tone that allowed for no misunderstanding. "Not about Kouetsu or about his research, do you understand?"

"Yes, Father."

He sighed and massaged his temple. "You shouldn't let that weigh you down," he began softly. "I know what I've always said, and we are the best ones to fix the Dark Hour and the Shadows. But I don't want you to shut yourself away and miss out on opportunities because of him, or because of me. You're young and you have your whole life ahead of you. You deserve better than that."

"Do you think there's a chance that this might interfere with SEES?"

"I think you're both smart enough to find ways around that," Father replied with a smile. "Our family's motto. Do you remember it?"

Mitsuru nodded. "Yes. 'Two in harmony surpasses one in perfection.'"

"That's right. That's what you should aim for. No matter what harmony looks like to you or who you feel it with, it is better than trying to be perfect. If Kouetsu taught you anything, it should be that he tried to be more than human and failed. Don't think for one minute that you have to follow that road."

She let out a breath, feeling lighter and oddly out of place. This was the first time she and Father had had such an intimate talk, and she couldn't deny that she liked it. "I understand. Thank you for approving of us. I'll keep what you said in mind."

"That's all I ask." There was a chime in the corner, and Father glanced at it, annoyed, before shutting it off. "We'll have to conclude this soon."

"I understand. I have nothing else to report."

"Where are you going for your next date?" he inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Arisato hasn't told me yet. I'm meeting him and we are going from there."

"Make sure you have fun while you're together," Father instructed. "Don't carry your work with you. That will only ruin things."

Mitsuru felt a lump growing in her throat. She'd been afraid that Father would be angry or disappointed in her for taking this step forward, for doing something different. Instead, he was encouraging her and giving her advice. "I... I understand," she choked out.

Father shook his head. "I don't think you do. I suspect that I've never told you this, and that's something I've regretted until now. But your mother would want you to be happy at a time like this. Even with everything going on, she'd want you to enjoy yourself and be as normal as you can. I want that same thing, Mitsuru. You are my child and I want you to be happy. If that involves you going out with a boy, then that's what you should do. It's time you started thinking of the future, and not just where universities and the company are concerned."

Mitsuru couldn't keep the tears back, smiling shakily and chuckling even as her breath hitched and her cheeks became wet. "Okay, Dad," she whispered with love in her voice. The last time she'd called him that had before Mother died. "Okay. Let's both do that, together. Especially when all of this has been dealt with."

Father smiled then, a smile that softened the hard lines of his face. "That sounds good. If you don't mind, I'd like to hear more about what you've been up to when you have the time. No talking about Shadows or work. Just us."

"I'll make sure it's soon," Mitsuru promised, wiping at her eyes with a tissue. "I have something else to say, before you go. Something I should have said before now."

Father gestured for her to continue.

She had to dig deep for the words that had always been there, waiting to be said. Words she'd felt too awkward to say until now, and now sounded strange and beautiful as they crossed her lips. "I love you, Dad. Please don't ever forget that."

His face softened even more, and his smile made him look ten years younger. It was a smile that reached his eye and stood out amidst the soft night around them both. "I love you too, Mitsuru. I always will."

 

* * *

 

"Eager to get right to it, huh?" Shinjiro asked as he entered the kitchen and saw Yamagishi ready to start. "Have you decided what you want to make?"

"Hi Senpai. Yes, and I got the ingredients already," she told him, eyes alight and hands quivering in eagerness.

Shinjiro sighed, giving the impression of being put upon and nagged. If he were honest about it, Yamagishi was making some pretty impressive strides in her cooking. She hadn't burned any rice or melted any pots for close to a week now, and learning to use measuring spoons with the spices had solved a lot of her problems. But she wanted to learn more, and kept asking him for lessons until he conceded. He smiled to himself as he pulled his apron on. To be fair, she was better company than he was used to, but he wasn't going to tell her that. She'd get a swollen head and become unbearable if he did. "Good. What are we making?"

"Soup and agemono," she told him happily.

Shinjiro paused in grabbing a kerchief for his hair. "Agemono? You want to try deep-frying food already?"

"I had some for lunch a few days ago and the flavours were amazing. I wanted to give it a try. You know how to make it, don't you Senpai?"

Shinjiro grunted. "Yeah, and that's why I know how tricky it can be to get the flavours just right. It's not a beginner's dish if you want to make it by hand."

"I want to try it anyway," she insisted. "And if I make mistakes, I'll try again until I get it right."

Shinjiro turned so she wouldn't see the begrudging respect in his smirk. She hadn't just started getting better with cooking, but she was more resolute and determined than she had been before. She didn't flinch from him very often anymore, and Aki had said that she owed that to Arisato and the others spending time with her and pushing her outside of her boundaries. Apparently, Iori had been taking her to the arcade, and she and Takeba had been spending time with Aigis to socialize her around people. She was stepping up and stepping out and trying new things, and the experiences were making her tougher. And she needed that; being tough was the only way to stay alive in this world. "All right. We'll try agemono," he conceded. "And you're cleaning the kitchen if you screw up."

"Thanks for helping, Senpai. I really appreciate it."

Shinjiro shook his head as he stepped up next to her. "Don't get the wrong idea. If I let you do this on your own, you'll burn the dorm down and we'll be sleeping on the street. Or you'll keep trying when you get it wrong and empty out the fridge."

She smiled happily and nodded. "Of course. Thank you anyway. I wouldn't have been able to get this far without you."

Shinjiro grunted. His cheeks we were only because the burners were on. That was it. "What kind of soup do you want to make?"  
"Dangojiru."

He snorted. Soup with dumplings, tofu and loads of vegetables. Of course she'd try for the hard recipes. "You're trying to run before you can even walk, you know, and you're going to end up on your face. Next time we do this, you're cooking everything on your own."

When they'd first started cooking, telling her that would have made her wilt or freak out. Now she just looked at him and nodded. "I'll make sure I learn everything I need to by then, Senpai. I'll show you that I can do it right."

He grunted. "I hope you like buying groceries then. And how many pots and pans are you going to burn?"

"Failure's the first part of getting it right," she told him firmly.

Shinjiro chuckled. She was a plucky one, and she was learning. Yeah, she'd be all right. "If you're serious about that, then show me what you can do."

She nodded, almost saluting and clicking her heels together, and bustled around with her print-outs and ingredients. Her movements were smoother than when they'd first started, and she knew where all her tools were. Knives and boards and bowls came out and soon she had vegetables the colour of a flower garden in their proper places. Most of them were cut crooked, he noted, and she glared at him when he pointed it out, but said "I'll get it right next time," before she went back to what she was doing.

For his part, Shinjiro worked on the deep frying and the seasonings. Agemono could be tricky if you wanted it to taste better than street food, and it was easy to overcook the batter and make it crumbly. "Do it over a low heat," he instructed, showing her after she set the soup broth (her second pot; the first attempt would have taken half an hour to heat up and could have fed her entire class) on the stove to boil. "That way the juices mix in with the batter and the meat stays tender. Cook it at too high a temperature and you'll sear it."

"I understand," she replied.

The rest of the preparation went over without very many problems, which almost annoyed Shinjiro. If he was going to give her shit over something, it had to be something she had done wrong. With her making fewer mistakes and taking his criticisms on the chin, him chewing her out would have made him look like an asshole, and that would have brought Aki and Mitsuru down on him. "You seem to like it here," he commented instead. "Isn't all this stuff strange?"

She blinked at him owlishly. "I'm not sure what you mean," she told him a moment later. "Why wouldn't I like it here?"

He chuckled grimly. "You're in a place where everyone has Personas. You go out at night and fight Shadows to protect people who will never know what you did for them. The family pet has a Persona and none of this is stuff you can put on a resume. Actually, what we're fighting is the sort of thing that would drive a normal person crazy. What's your secret?"

Her confused look persisted as she tilted her head. "Are you... making conversation, Senpai?"

"We need something to do while the soup simmers," he replied. "And there's still a lot you can improve on."

That seemed to be enough to get her gears turning again. "Um... right. Well, I guess I am. Nothing you've said is wrong, but I feel like if I'm with the others, I can handle it. Even when Minato-kun is hurt or when Akihiko-senpai and Junpei-kun argue over studying and test scores, this is more fun than if I was at a dorm where I couldn't talk to anyone. Or if I was back home."

"I guess," he grunted, turning to the counter when he saw her expression. He knew what was going through her head, and it was the same feeling that had been in his heart when he'd followed Aki after Miki died and the orphanage burned down: old scars from the past and sticking to the present because it was all they had. The whole team had the same feel to them, and he wondered what Yamagishi thought of when she looked to the future. Was she planning to go to college, open her own business, and treat these nights like they were just a class she had to get through? Was she learning to cook to distract herself from the present? Would she stick around with the others when their fights were over or would they all drift apart? Did she lose sleep at the idea of them screwing up and ending up as red paste in Tartarus?

He knew, like he'd always known, that this was what Mitsuru saw when she looked at them: kids who used their fucked-up backgrounds as fuel in the fight against the Shadows. The SEES members needed the outlet because otherwise they'd have to face how much they'd lost and what they'd never get back. Shinjiro believed that even Mitsuru was like that on some level, angry at losing her mother or resenting the experiments that made her into what she was, and how even with her old man still alive, it wasn't the same happy life she might have had. When Shinjiro first joined, he used to think that she was using him by giving a junkie his fix to stay normal and do as she said. He hadn't minded; he'd been glad to kick ass and take names back then. But now she seemed different. Now it felt like she honestly cared about them, and that caring so much was drawing them together and forging a team that could handle anything. Now it seemed less about doping them against reality and more about making them strong enough to move on from their pasts. Had she always been like that? Or was it because of Arisato? Maybe nothing had changed and it was just his own perspective that had changed now that he'd had some time to think about it.

Shinjiro shook his head. He was moping, and that wasn't him. There was too much to do, and he wouldn't be able to do it if he got soft and careless. Thankfully, it looked like Yamagishi would be able to handle herself soon. She'd still be hesitant, but she'd be strong for the others without letting the pain crack her. "Don't lose that," he murmured to himself, not aware he was speaking out loud.

"Don't lose what, Senpai?" she asked, turning from where she was stirring the soup.

"Hm?"

"You said not to lose something," she clarified.

Shinjiro grunted. It figured he'd get caught by thinking too hard about things. This was why he didn't do it. "I meant I have something for you that you'd better not lose or get grease all over," he told her after a moment's hesitation.

"Something to give me?"

He nodded to where his cookbook lay, dozens of recipes scribed in perfect spacing and neat, cursive writing. "The recipes you're getting are playing it safe," he told her. "My book has a lot more ideas and stuff in it. Read up on what you like and give them a try."

"You're... giving me your cookbook?!" she demanded with a shocked look, nearly dumping soup broth all over the floor. "Senpai, I can't take that! It's yours!"

"I'm not giving it to you," he told her slowly, stressing each word. "I'm going to want it back when you're done with it. But hang onto it and study up for next time. Think of it as homework."

She picked up the book like it had the answers to their next exam in it. "Are you sure, Senpai?"

"I wouldn't give it to you if I wasn't. I don't need it much anymore. Just don't break it or drop it out the window."

"Of course not! I'll make sure it's just like this when I give it back," she promised him, hugging it to her chest.

Shinjiro shrugged, hiding his smile. "That's good enough, I guess. The soup stock's ready. Let's finish this up and eat."

After that their conversation was limited to her thanking him over and over and promising to return his book in the same shape he gave it to her in. Shinjiro brushed her off and finished preparing the food and sending her after the others for lunch.

"She's getting better," Aki told him as they ate at the kitchen table. "It doesn't smell burnt anymore."

"Senpai!" Yamagishi protested from where she was talking to Mitsuru. "At least wait until I'm not here before you say that!"

"That would be the polite course of action, Akihiko," Mitsuru told them, but her lips were turned up at the corners through her reprimand.

"I don't believe that any part of this meal was burned," Aigis told them from where she was calmly eating her food. "This is a marked improvement from Fuuka-san's initial attempts."

Yamagishi pouted while Mitsuru patted her shoulder, and the others laughed.

"Feel like getting some practice in today, Shinjiro-senpai?" Iori asked after he'd raced through two plates and bowls of food. "No time like the present, right?"

Shinjiro shrugged. "I've got a few minutes, I guess. Give me fifteen."

"Will do!"

Shinjiro shook his head when Iori grabbed their practice weapons and ran up the stairs to the roof. They could practice undisturbed there, even if the footing was rough and the weather would make practice hotter than a stove's back door. "Clown," he grumbled. The others chuckled and finished their food before going their separate ways. Aigis, Yamagishi and Mitsuru headed out, talking between themselves, while Takeba went up to her room. Soon the foyer was quiet again and it was just him and Aki.

"You've been putting a lot of time into practicing with him," Aki noted as he returned from cleaning his dishes. "Seems like things are going all right between you."

Shinjiro shrugged. "He's got a lot of energy for getting his ass handed to him, and I need someone who fights with weapons as a sparring partner. It's no fun if I kick your ass all the time."

Aki smirked, clenching a hand into a fist. "I'm glad you're having fun. It's been forever since you've been this happy."

"Are you trying to be funny?"

"No. I'm serious. You belong here. Everyone's getting a lot out of you being here, and you like them even if you won't say it."

Shinjiro was about to blow Aki off, but decided against it. Aki would only take so much shit-talking before he got physical, and while Shinjiro had a mean suplex, Aki's southpaw was a match-ender. "I guess. Not sure what that says about how things were before I got here if I make that much of a difference."

"Don't be an ass. You're part of the team, and everyone sees that. It wouldn't kill you to make some friends, would it?"

Shinjiro kept quiet. Here, with no one else listening in and the calm of the dorm around them, it really did feel comfortable. Safe. Warm in a way that the alleys and ratty cots never were. It would be easy to get lulled into the group, to start letting people in and make some connections again. But should he? Was that really all right after what he'd done and the mistakes he'd made? "Hooking up with people isn't really my thing," he replied, but his heart wasn't in it.

Aki picked up on the uncertainty in his voice and pushed harder. "It doesn't need to be. You can still get a lot out of what's going on here even if you don't want to be best friends with anyone."

Shinjiro snorted and looked away, but didn't say anything.

"Come on, don't give me that," Aki told him. "When are you going to let that stuff go? You living on the streets and suffering isn't going to change anything. It won't bring Miki back, and it won't make what happened to Amada any easier."

Shinjiro looked around, making sure that they were alone. "Don't bring that up," he hissed.

"What happened back then doesn't mean you have to keep suffering," Aki insisted, leaning forward. "If you want to make up for what happened, why don't you try living a good life for them? It's a lot better than hiding in the alleys and eating crap that's going to kill you."

Shinjiro glared at his friend, but Aki glared right back, stubborn as the day they met. Their silent contest lasted for a few seconds before Shinjiro sighed. "It's not that easy."

"Tell me why."

Shinjiro shook his head. He hated talking about himself, but Aki was more than just a friend at this point. If anyone could keep their mouth shut, it was him. "I'm remembering what happened that night," he admitted. "The Shadow we were fighting. The house. Castor going crazy. I remember the screams and the blood and I'm suffocating when I wake up."

"Nightmares," Aki noted.

"They're pretty bad. It feels like I'm back there, only I can't run from it. I can't get out of it sometimes, and that makes it all way worse."

"Do you want any help? Mitsuru would help you out if you needed it, maybe get you prescriptions for something or set you up with a therapist."

The idea of talking to a shrink made him chuckle, and the thought of taking drugs was laughable at this point. "No. I don't need anything throwing me off, and other people don't need to know what we do. I doubt even Mitsuru has shrinks who can handle us or we'd have seen them by now."

Aki grunted but didn't disagree.

"Besides, sometimes the nightmares make me feel better. Like I'm paying for what happened."

"That's not how atonement works. You have to let this stuff go before it breaks you."

"Do you think that Amada coming here was fate?"

The change in subject seemed to catch Aki unprepared, but he shook his head. "Of course not. Fate's an excuse for people who've stopped trying. Why bring that up? When did you start believing in fate?"

"He developed a Persona without dying. He found his way here and got strong enough to stay here. He's lasted this long and he probably knows at least some of the truth about what happened to his mother. What are the odds of that happening all by itself?"

Aki let out a breath. "I don't think it's that unexpected. He went through the same thing we did, and he developed a Persona the same as us. The only difference is that he didn't get the chance to train with it until he got here, but the rest is just a coincidence. You could have gone anywhere else once you took off, but you chose to stay here in Tatsumi. You could have given up using your Persona, but you kept in practice. This isn't destiny. It's choice. Things turned out this way and here we are."

"You think it's that simple?"

"Yes, I do. We know what makes Persona-Users manifest their powers, and we're the ones who are in the best position to recognize them and bring them on. We can teach them and protect them instead of letting the Shadows get them. We're all just going in the same direction, so I don't think it's that strange for us to be here."

Shinjiro shook his head and looked away. "That sounds pretty crazy."

Aki shrugged. "I know. I'm still working it out in my head."

"Let me know what you come up with. I want to hear more of your crazy ideas."

"Sure. When you decide that you're done torturing yourself and actually start living your life."

"You're going to keep harping on this until I stop you, aren't you?"

"Yes. Because you don't deserve the shit that you're putting yourself through. I know it, Mitsuru knows it, and these guys here are proof that we don't have to go through this stuff alone."

These guys. Yeah, it came back to them, didn't it? Like Shinjiro figured, Aki saw their strengths and weaknesses, and rather than it dividing them, it drew them together and helped them be normal even through everything that had happened. "I guess Mitsuru learned to lead people, huh?" Shinjiro asked quietly.

Aki hummed dubiously. "I'm not sure. She's learned a lot since our first run, but I think a lot of it comes back to Arisato. He's made friends with these guys and brought them together so that they're more than the sum of their parts."

Arisato. Shinjiro snorted. Something about the kid made things feel off, like there was a conversation going on in the background but no one could make out the words. Shinjiro liked needling him and giving him crap, but the way that Yoshino lost her mind just by seeing him, and then how Metis had come after him exclusively, all said that there was something else going on. The feeling wasn't helped by Aki and Mitsuru going out for a meeting and bringing Arisato along with them, but not talking about what went on when they got back. It was hard for Shinjiro to trust someone who so easily set the hairs on the back of his neck tingling. "The newbie, huh? If you say so."

"You have a problem with him?"

"Nothing I can't manage. If he's helping your crew out this much, then what I think doesn't matter." Shinjiro looked at the clock hanging on the wall. He still needed to stretch and warm up before he sparred with Iori. "Catch you later."

"Go easy on him."

"I know. I haven't killed him yet."

 

* * *

 

"Damn, Senpai you don't ease up," Iori laughed, picking himself up from the ground and brushing at his shirt and pants. "Where'd you learn to fight like that?"

Shinjiro grunted and backed off a few steps. "It's easy if you know where to pick it up," he replied. "You just have to know the right people and take it seriously."

"Guess you do get intense when we're in Tartarus," Iori noted, rolling his neck. "It's pretty cool, you know."

Shinjiro shrugged and otherwise didn't reply. In Tartarus he could turn loose without hurting anyone. The others could look after themselves and if things got crazy, they knew how to react. Out in the open, though, and around normal people... He shook his head. "Whatever. Get up and let's do it again."

"Sure thing!"

As Shinjiro hefted his training axe, he held back a smile. Iori might have been the crudest and most straightforward fighter on the team, and he was easy to predict and counter against, but he could take a serious beating and keep on going. Anything that fought him would have to deal with some serious tenacity and grit, and Shinjiro could respect that. That Iori's heart was in the right place, thinking about the others even if he hid his concern behind playing video games and talking about girls, was what kept him in the ring as long as it did. Don't lose that, Shinjiro thought to himself before he darted forward and brought the axe up.

They sparred for another half hour before they called it quits, both sporting bruises and breathing hard from how intense their matches had gotten. Shinjiro shouldered his axe and was about to go back into the dorm when he noticed Iori smiling at something on his phone. The smile wasn't one he'd seen on the teen until relatively recently, so he could guess what that look was about.

Shinjiro was surprised that Yoshino hadn't talked about his involvement with Strega. Given the nature of the drugs they were dealing in and how little he'd told the others about his dealings with Sakaki and Shirato, it would have been a prime opportunity to mess with SEES's morale. But she'd been silent on the topic even though she had to have seen him when they'd captured her. Was she waiting for something? Did she have a course of action in mind? Or did she even care about those sorts of things now that she was cut off from the others? Strega had been a hard group to get a bead on when they'd first met, and now that Sakaki was on the warpath they'd gotten even harder to predict. Shinjiro would only admit it to himself, but he was glad that he was around Mitsuru and Aki again. It meant that he wouldn't have to face those two alone. "How's your girl?" he asked Iori.

Iori looked up and quickly put his phone back in his pocket. "Fine, I think. She keeps telling me to go away and to stop bothering her, but last time I brought her a new sketch book and she seemed pretty happy about it. I mean, in her own way. She's like that."

Shinjiro shook his head. Why guys got so hung up over girls who told them off was beyond him. If the girl wanted you to be around, she'd let you know and come get you herself. There was no point in poking at a bee hive when you weren't wanted. But if Iori saw being buzzed at and stung as affection, then that was up to him. It would give him a thicker skin later. "Is she allowed to have knives and forks again? Or are they sticking to spoons?" Shinjiro asked only because the hospital staff had recently caught her with a box cutter blade. How she got it in the first place, no one knew.

Iori looked away. "That's... I think she's getting better. The cuts are healing, and... I don't know. I don't get how someone could be that messed up to want to cut themselves though. That's pretty crazy."

"It's how she is," Shinjiro noted, "until they convince her to stop or just keep her in restraints 24/7. And with her healing being even better than ours, it's not like she's going to permanently scar."

"That's not the point, Senpai. There's no way that cutting yourself is normal. What the hell happened to her that she does that to herself?"

Shinjiro shrugged. He didn't bother with girls anymore so he had nothing to say on the subject, and she'd always been silent when he'd seen her before. "She probably has her reasons."

"She's not going to get any better if she doesn't get past those reasons though," Iori insisted. "Do you have any advice for getting a girl to open up about stuff like that?"

"That's not my thing. Ask Arisato or Takeba, they'd know better than I would."

Iori scratched the back of his head. "They told me that I should be careful around her in case she attacks us again, and that what she's going through is a hard thing to fix."

"Then you should listen to them. They're right."

"How's she supposed to get better then?"

Shijiro shook his head. Was this why guys sniffed after any girl they thought was closed off? Because they felt the need to protect her from whatever was bothering her? Saving her from a dragon that wasn't their place to take on? "She might not. What she's dealing with goes back to when she was younger than Amada. She went through the Kirijo experiments and had a harder time at it than Mitsuru did. She's been on the streets until now, dealing with her Persona and probably fighting off the Shadows with those guys she fights with. What do you think that does to someone? Do you think it's easy to come back from that and play nice in polite society?"

"Why would she draw and hang around the train station and look after animals if she couldn't be normal?" Iori asked doggedly. "If she was as dangerous as you're saying, then she'd be a psychopathic killer or a sadistic monster or something. But she's pretty normal when you talk to her, and she wouldn't be like that if she were crazy, would she?"

Shinjiro sighed. He hated having discussions like this, but Aki and Mitsuru had told him to be a senpai to these kids. "People aren't that simple. She might have been thinking of all the reasons that those people deserved to die, or maybe they reminded her of how no one helped her when she was being experimented on. Maybe she just likes being out in the open to lure people in and then she takes them somewhere to kill them, while animals are harmless so she doesn't have a problem with them."

"That's pretty harsh, Senpai," Iori told him a bit coldly. "She's not like that."

"You don't know that," Shinjiro shot back, glaring. "Just because she smiled at you once and you think she cared about you doesn't mean she did, unless you've forgotten how she tied you up and would have killed you if we hadn't gotten there first. The simplest answer isn't always the right one, and if you want to fix her now, you have to deal with everything she's gone through. Her fears, her scars, why she was part of Strega and why she killed Takeba's friend. That's part of who she is the same as the part of her that sketches and likes dogs, so if you're going to tackle that, you need to think it through and do more than say that you'll bear her sins for her or something equally stupid."

Iori cleared his throat and blushed, evidently having thought just that at some point.

"People aren't simple things, and she doesn't have a Persona because she had an easy life. She's been through hell, and she's killed people for it. I won't stop you if you want to keep talking to her, but don't pretend that she's an easy case to work out. She's got a lot going on and you're going to have to handle the worst of it before you can do anything."

"So... you're saying that I should keep trying. You mean that I have to do more than I have and that I have to get her to talk about that stuff to work it out, right?"

Shinjiro growled under his breath. That tenacity was showing itself again, and he knew better than to take it on head-first. Iori had already taken a bigger beating than expected and if he still had this much energy and drive, then it was better to just walk away. "Like I said, do what you like. I'm just telling it how I see it. I've got things to do, so I'm off. Don't get yourself killed."

"Thanks, Senpai. That really helped."

Shinjiro grunted. Whatever. He left the roof and was on his way through the girls' floor, about to leave the dorm and go for a walk so he could enjoy some time to himself, when he heard Takeba shouting behind her barely open door.

"Fine! Do what you like! I don't care what you do, but at least keep me out of it!"

Shinjiro glanced toward her room, then turned toward the stairs. He wasn't about to get involved in whatever was getting her knickers in a twist.

"Whatever," she continued, loud enough to be heard as he passed by. "Take better care of your phone. I don't want to get anymore calls from whoever you're sleeping with."

He took a moment to raise an eyebrow. Getting calls from strangers because someone else was handing their phone around? Yeah, that sounded bad.

She came through her door, slamming it shut behind her and standing in the hallway, trembling with her phone creaking in her clenched fist. She wasn't crying. Instead, she looked royally pissed. Before he could leave, she looked up and saw him looking at her, and she let out a breath between clenched teeth. "Did you hear any of that?"

"Nope," he told her blandly. He was about to turn and leave, but she spoke up before he could make it to the stairs.

"You had to have heard something. Fuuka and Mitsuru-senpai aren't back and I didn't close my door the whole way. How much did you hear?"

Shinjiro sighed, wishing he was back in the alleys. Life was a lot simpler when he was around punks too afraid to screw with him and girls who only wanted one thing. "You have a friend who lets people look at her contact list and you're getting calls because of it. That's where I came in."

Her eyes narrowed. "Was that all?"

"Yeah, that was all."

"Nothing else?"

"No. I don't even know who you were talking to. It's none of my business."

She scoffed. "Yeah, it isn't. This is something I don't need the Kirijo knowing about."

"So don't tell them," he advised icily, "and don't shout in your room."

"Well, if you know then Mitsuru-senpai will know too, won't she?"

Shinjiro stiffened, straightening from his usual slouch and glaring at her. Having personal problems was one thing, but he wasn't about to stand being called a lapdog. "What did you just say?"

"Mitsuru-senpai and Akihiko-senpai are why you're here, aren't they? That means you're going to tell them what you see and hear, doesn't it?"

His glare hardening, Shinjiro strode toward her, hands coming out of his pockets. Takeba backed up to the wall, looking nervous and about to bolt. He slammed his hands against the wall on either side of her, leaning in. Like she said, the girls were gone and Aigis was with them, so he wouldn't have any interruptions. Caught, she looked up at him, fear and indignation conflicting in her eyes. To her credit, she didn't cower or duck under his arms. "Take that back. Right now," he growled. "Aki and Mitsuru are my friends, but don't think that I'm on the Kirijo payroll. I do what I like and they do whatever it is they do. That's it."

Some of the fight started to go out of her as her blood cooled a bit, but she still glared at him without speaking.

"If you don't want people to know your business, then take it somewhere else. And if you're going to pick fights, pick them with someone who doesn't live here. Whatever your problem with the Kirijo is, work it so the rest of us don't have to put up with it."

"Don't go listening to people's conversations," she shot back.

"Close your door when you want to throw a fit," he told her, backing away. "Not everyone finds your shit so interesting that they're going to stop and listen."

"Screw you," she told him, standing at her full height. "Not all of us are running from our problems. Some of us still have to deal with the things we have left."

Shinjiro chuckled grimly. The girls in this place sure did speak their minds. They weren't content to be on a guy's arm and stay quiet, and that was actually a bit refreshing. "Good," he replied saying nothing else and watching as she mentally stumbled over what he'd said.

"What?"

His smile grew, and he made it look unpleasant deliberately. "I said 'good.' If you're trying to handle your problems, then it means you've still got some fight left in you."

"That's... why would you say that?"

"It threw you off, didn't it?"

She huffed, turned away and crossed her arms. "You're such a jerk."

He shrugged and turned back toward the stairs, leaving her by the wall. He made his way down the stairs to the guys' floor and was almost at the staircase when he heard her following him down. "Where're you going, Senpai?" she asked.

"Out," he grunted, going down to the foyer, putting his outdoor shoes on and hitting the streets. The crisp blue sky and strong breeze were invigorating, carrying the familiar smells of fast food stands and car exhaust. The change of the seasons made him feel a bit nostalgic, remembering the times he, Aki and Miki worked the streets for spare change and food for the other kids. He'd hated having to do it back then, but now those days were some of the most fun he'd had. The cookouts, the games, feeling like they were cheating the uncaring Japanese adoption system and the sense of being able to look after themselves without the help of the overworked adults was a pretty big rush.

He was at the corner of the street outside the dorm when he heard the dorm door open and close behind him. When he turned, he noticed Takeba at the bottom of the stairs, fighting to get her other shoe on while her cardigan was askew. She apparently wasn't done talking given how she was facing his direction, but he was done playing senpai for the day. As though he hadn't noticed her, he turned the corner and kept walking, stretching his legs and lengthening his stride. When he walked against the flow of people on the sidewalk, they found room to get out of his way, and he smiled a little on the inside. Aki and Mitsuru could play at politeness all they wanted, but sometimes making people afraid of you got much better results.

He walked two blocks before he stopped and turned to address the girl who'd been following him at a discreet distance. "Conversation's over," he growled at Takeba. "Go away."

"I'm not following you," she shot back. "We're going in the same direction and you happen to be in front of me. That's it."

"So come on up and go ahead of me," he offered, smiling darkly when she didn't move. "Thought so."

"Shut up," she told him, looking to the side.

Shinjiro kept walking, picking up Takeba's steps behind him at the same distance whether he went faster or slower. He turned the corner in a few places, knowing that the malls and restaurants were in different directions, but she stayed behind him. He sighed, the enjoyment draining away. Why did he have to put up with this? With Aki and Mitsuru and Arisato and hell, even Ikutsuki around, why were these people coming to him with their problems? He just wanted to kill Shadows and do his own thing, so why was he having to act like a properly responsible senpai?

He walked back toward the main street, Takeba still following him. When he spotted a vacant bench on the sidewalk, he lengthened his stride and headed for it. When some punk with a studded jacket and nose piercings tried to cut him off and take a seat, Shinjiro stepped in front of him and stared him down, answering his half-literate bluster with silence and a glare. It wasn't long before the guy left, swearing under this breath and strutting like he'd won the argument. Shinjiro brushed the bench off and sat on one side, crossing a leg and looking out into traffic. Several moments later, after some fidgeting, Takeba sat on the other side, not looking at him as she settled back. "So, wassup?" he asked.

"I wanted to make sure you weren't going to tell anyone about what you heard," she told him half-heartedly.

"Well, I'm not. Like I said, I don't care about your problems."

She scoffed. "You're pretty rude, you know."

"I guess."

There was a long silence, and Shinjiro leaned back to look up at the sky before he felt her shuffle over a little. "I'm sorry about what I said, Senpai," she began. "I got a call from some guy trying to pick me up, and then the argument that you heard happened, and... I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

He shrugged. "I figured as much. Whoever the friend was that he got your number from, you should ditch them. Someone like that will drag you down and give you problems."

"It's my mom," Takeba told him plainly.

That came enough from left field that Shinjiro looked at her in surprise. "It's... what?"

Takeba clenched her hands around her phone, looking at the cement but speaking clearly enough for him to hear her over the noise around them. "The guy got my number from my mom's phone. She's... well..." She sighed. "How much do you know about my past, Senpai?"

Sensing where this was going, Shinjiro shook his head. "Look, I don't care. You have your problems the same as we all do. If you're handling them, then that's fine. It's got nothing to do with me."

"But if you don't care, that means that you won't tell anyone what you know, right? Because it's not something important?"

Shinjiro looked at her, saw that she needed to talk about this and get it off her chest, and let out a disgusted groan. "I'm going to charge you for this," he replied. He didn't get up off the bench or move like he was going to leave. "Go ahead and talk."

She nodded and took a few breaths. "My dad worked for the Kirijo Group as one of their scientists. He kept some crazy hours when I was a kid, always coming home late and leaving for work early. I figured it was just how things were, because he'd always make it up to me when he had time. Reading books, helping me with homework, that sort of thing. He also threw the best birthday parties when he could make them. My mom got angry sometimes and said that he shouldn't be putting his work ahead of his family, but things were... happy, I guess. You know?"

Shinjiro shrugged. "I can't relate. My parents are dead," he told her blandly. "I never knew them."

Takeba scratched her neck and sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring it up."

"It's fine. I don't remember them. You were talking about your dad."

She looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "Right. So my dad worked hard and looked after me and Mom, but then the Shadows broke out and he died when their labs were destroyed."

He blinked. "You mean the breakout that happened ten years ago, right? The same lab that Yoshino and Mitsuru and Aigis were at?"

"I don't know if it was the exact same lab, but he was working on the Shadow project, yeah. That's where he died."

Shinjiro grunted, still not looking at her. "Talk about a small world. Seems like everyone's connected to those labs."

"It is a strange coincidence isn't it?"

Shinjiro couldn't tell if she was being sincere or suspicious, and he wasn't going to go digging there when he saw a chance to clear up something that had been hard to miss. "Is that why you hate Mitsuru?"

Takeba looked at him, shock on her face. "What? No, I¬–I don't hate her."

"Really? It sounded like you don't trust her, and even I can tell that you have your problems with her."

"I don't hate her, Senpai," she insisted. "I didn't trust her at first, and I think that the Kirijo Group knows more about this stuff than what they're telling us, but I don't hate Mitsuru-senpai."

He was skeptical. "Okay, so you don't hate her."

"I don't," she insisted. "I joined SEES to find out what happened to my dad and she was the best chance I had to get those answers. Hating her would have gotten me kicked out, and then I wouldn't know anything about the Shadows or my dad."

"She'd have told you if you asked," he told her coldly. "She went through a lot at those labs too, so it's not like she'd keep her grandfather's secrets or tell you off."

She nodded a bit weakly. "I know. I know that now, and I know that she's had a rough time and she's still fighting for all of us. It's just that I've had a lot to deal with since... since forever, it feels like."

"And that has to do with your old man?"

She took a long breath. "After Dad died, my mom started to get weird. Well, sort of weird, but maybe she had parts of her like that all the time and I just didn't notice them. She started acting like she was a teenager. Spending money, hanging out late and drinking, bringing guys home, stuff like that. It was bad enough dealing with Dad being gone, but Mom just ditched him after the funeral was over and turned into a wreck. Some of the guys she brought home were creeps who tried to sweet talk me, sometimes they'd get my number and I'd have to change it, and I couldn't even bring friends over because I didn't know what kind of scumbag would be there. She'd kick the guys out when I made a big deal about it, but the next one she brought home would be the same."

Shinjiro nodded silently. Everyone had their demons, it seemed, and Takeba's attitude made a lot more sense now; having a loving family and watching it die a slow, morbid death was a crueller punishment than finishing it off fast.

"I blamed the Kirijo Group when I was younger," she continued, still looking out at the road. "I hated them for taking Dad away and turning my mom into some compensated dating hooker. I hated how everyone praised them for building the school where the labs used to be but blamed the deaths of all their people on an accident. I hated how we had to move and how I lost friends because of Mom and everything going wrong. It felt like I was the only person who knew what had happened, like I was the only one who cared. When I met Mitsuru-senpai, I thought she'd be a snob and talk down to me or make things hard because she knew about my dad. But she wasn't. Like you said, she's been through a lot, and I can't hate her for something she didn't do. She didn't make the labs blow up, and she didn't kill my dad or make my mom into... what she is. When I heard about her grandpa, it seemed like she had it pretty bad as a kid. And then I met her dad and I was sure that her life had been hard."

Shinjiro grunted. This was positive. Takeba being mature about this stuff meant that the team wasn't going to crack over personal agendas. "So you can see her side of things. Good. Sounds like you've got it all worked out then."

Takeba shook her head, still facing the road. "Not really. What am I supposed to do with my mom? Being in the dorm means that I don't have to be around her, but she still calls and asks me to visit. She says that when she's sober, you know? And she sounds like she means it, like she can change after years of being a trainwreck. What am I supposed to say to that?"

"How should I know?"

She looked at him sideways, a sober look on her face. "I wasn't asking you, Senpai. I've been talking to myself this whole time."

Shinjiro chuckled. She was sharp. "What was your mom like before your old man died? What was she like when they met? Parents love to talk about stuff like that, don't they?"

"Hm? What does that matter?"

"It doesn't. I'm just talking out loud too."

She glared at him for a moment before looking into traffic again. "She loved him a lot," she began. "Even when she got angry at him, it was because he missed an anniversary or my birthday or something. She'd talk about how they met, how he made her feel and how she'd wait up for him to make sure he got a good night's rest. Even when I was a kid I could tell that he was a huge part of her life." Takeba's voice hardened. "Now she's spitting on all that, hooking up with whoever she wants. Some wife she turned out to be, huh?"

"Maybe that's how she copes," Shinjiro commented. "Maybe she was needy and wanted his attention, but now that he's dead she can't get her fix anymore."

That got her hackles up. "She's not a junkie, Senpai. Don't talk about her like that."

"I don't mean it like that. I'm just thinking that if your old man was that big a deal to her, then maybe she's still coping with him being dead."

"By hooking up with guys and drinking herself blind? That's crazy."

Shinjiro glanced over at her, an eyebrow raised. "Is it? Iori's old man lost all his money and scrapes around for any booze he can get now. Yamagishi's parents disowned her because she wanted to be normal and do her own thing. People aren't simple. They're complex and messy, and just because you and me can cope with the crazy shit we see doesn't mean everyone else can. Some people can't cope at all."

"You think my mom's whoring herself around because she misses my dad that much? Like this is how she handles him being gone?"

"It's not the craziest thing I've ever heard. What does she say when you ask her why she does it?"

Takeba took a long while to answer. "What do you mean?" she asked finally, a bit unsteady.

"When she's sober. You talk to her, right? Does she feed you a line of shit? Damaged parents blame their kids for their problems sometimes, or they blame society or their boss or God. What was her excuse?"

Another long silence, and then a shuddering breath. "I don't know. I asked her when I was a kid, but I gave up on her years ago. I haven't really talked to her in a long time."

"Some loving kid you are."

"Go to hell, Senpai." There wasn't any bite in her voice. She was a lot quieter than she'd been before, and she was clenching her phone again.

"Whatever." Shinjiro got up to leave. She didn't call after him again, or get up to follow.

Shinjiro let out a breath as he walked down the street, enjoying the solitude. He soaked it in for another ten minutes before turning in the direction of the shrine. He hadn't told Iori or Takeba, but this was what he'd left the dorm for in the first place. He kept walking until he heard happy barking and the familiar sound of a dog's ball hitting the ground. He went up the shrine steps and saw Ken playing with Koromaru. There were girls and other kids petting Koromaru and scratching him behind the ears, and Ken seemed to be pretty popular. Popular enough that Iori would have been jealous if he'd been there.

What Shinjiro had to say wasn't the sort of thing that kids and normal people needed to hear, so he sat down on the bench next to Ken's and waited. Like he always did, he got looks from more than a few people. Koromaru bounded over to him and licked his hand familiarly. Shinjiro scratched the dog under his chin, and Koormaru liked it enough that his rear leg kicked reflexively, but Shinjiro kept his expression cold and didn't say anything.

"Hi Shinjiro-senpai," Ken said in greeting.

The teen grunted and didn't answer.

"Oh he's not that bad," Ken assured some of the worried questions and furtive looks. "He looks worse than he is."

"You know him, Ken-kun?" one of the high school girls asked.

"Yep, we live at the same dorm. He's one of Akihiko-senpai's friends."

"When you get a minute, Amada," Shinjiro began, glancing over, "we need to talk. Alone."

"Sure thing, Senpai. It might be a while though; Koro's pretty popular."

"We don't need to keep you, Ken-kun," the girl told him, and a few of the others made similar excuses. Within a few minutes, the last of the visitors had left Amada and had given their parting pats to Koromaru. The three were alone, and Shinjiro looked around the shrine for a more discreet place to have the conversation.

"Over here," he told Amada, getting up and throwing the ball for Koromaru while Amada followed him to a less-frequented corner of the grounds.

"What's up, Senpai?" Amada asked, no hint of suspicion or fear in his eyes. He threw the ball for Koromaru once the dog brought it back and began running in circles.

"You're still having problems with your Persona," Shinjiro pointed out, getting a startled look in reply. "You're fighting with it. The rest of us don't have that problem. You're good enough to be in the field, but why aren't you talking to Mitsuru and Arisato about it?"

Amada scratched the back of his head, smiling a little. "They haven't said anything about it yet so I thought I was keeping it under control. You're pretty sharp, Senpai."

"Answer the question," Shinjiro told him. "If a Persona goes out of control, it's bad news for all of us. You're on the team because they think you're steady. If you're not, then you need to step back and be smart about it."

"Arisato-senpai would be mad if he thought I was lying to him," Amada admitted.

Shinjiro didn't like giving their illustrious leader credit, but the kid was right about this much. "He's smart enough to know what it means. You saw what happened to him when he fought Metis, right? You probably won't get off that easy. So why are you hiding it?"

"I'm only doing this until things get better, Senpai," Amada assured him. "I think I've got it figured out, and once I'm steady then I won't have to worry about my Persona going out of control."

"What if it doesn't get better? What if you choke and lose control when everyone's already fighting? Do you know how much damage that will cause?"

"I know it's a risk, but I'm getting it under control," Amada insisted. "Just a little longer and I'll be fine, so please don't tell Arisato-senpai. It was really hard to get him to trust me."

"I can see why if you're keeping things from him," Shinjiro grunted.

"It's not like that, Senpai. I'm not doing it to be difficult, but I need to do this. Screwing up on this really isn't an option for me."

Shinjiro didn't like the sound of that. "And why is that? What's so important that you're putting yourself in danger, putting everyone else in danger, to get it?"

"My mom died because of a Persona," Amada told him directly. "It destroyed part of our house and she died right next to me before I could do anything."

Shinjiro bit his tongue and clenched a hand into a fist in his pocket. Having the living, breathing reminder of that sin right in front of him made every morning a challenge. Sometimes he wanted to apologize, but what was he supposed to say? What could balance out what he'd done? "Yeah, I heard about your story from Ikutsuki."

"Did he talk about everything?"

"He mentioned your mother in detail."

"I'm talking about my dad."

"Then no, he didn't. Why?"

Amada's smile turned sad, and his eyes got a bit glassy. "Dad had a real hard time after Mom died. He was always big into his faith up to then. He went to church every Sunday, volunteered to help people and work at the food bank and that sort of thing. But when Mom died, he stopped going to church. When he did go, he'd get mad and ask the priest why she had to die and why God took her from him."

"Most Christians I know don't have that problem. They say that the person is with God and that it's something to appreciate."

"I thought the same thing, but I think it was because I kept saying that it was a demon that destroyed the house. Dad didn't believe the police when they said it was a gas explosion, and he tried saying that Mom was with God now, but when I told him what I saw, he got really angry. I think there's a better word for it but I don't know what that might be. He thought I was lying, and when I swore I wasn't and even offered to go to church to prove it, he got really scared and thought the Devil had killed Mom. And then he thought the Devil was inside of me, so he kicked me out of the house."

Shinjiro hadn't known any of this. Had the others? Did Aki and Mitsuru? "That's pretty extreme. Couldn't you go anywhere? Crash with family or friends?"

"My mom's family lives a long way north of here, and Dad told me never to speak to his brother or sisters after Mom died. Anyone from the church thought I was a Devil-child, so they wouldn't come near me. I had to live on the streets until the Kirijo Group helped me. Actually, Senpai, did you know that Amada's not my normal last name?"

"What?"

"Dad told me not to keep his last name. He told me that the Devil would find him if I called myself his son, so I took Mom's last name instead and gave that to the Kirijo people."

It took Shinjiro a few seconds to find his words just then. "That's... that's sick. You didn't deserve that."

Amada just shrugged. "I figured Mom wouldn't mind. She loved me and would have understood, but I don't blame Dad. Mom died and he was scared. Most people would be scared if they saw the things we see, wouldn't they?"

"Well if your old man thought that a Persona was the Devil, what do you think of them? We all have one, and so do you."

Amada chuckled hollowly. "Personas aren't the Devil. They're not from God either. I don't think they're evil or good, and that stuff comes from how we use them. In that case, the Persona that killed my mom was evil. If it wasn't, then it wouldn't have killed her. She never did anything wrong."

What Ken was getting to crystallized into perfect clarity just then, as did the motives driving those emotions. "So you want revenge."

"I want that Persona to pay, yes."

"That's natural, but if you focus that hard on one thing, then you're going to end up like your old man. You might not be afraid of Personas like he is, but he's still focused on only one answer to the problem."

"I know, Senpai. I know that what I'm doing is reckless, but I have to do it. I love my dad, too, even if he won't have me back, so I don't think it's a bad thing to be like him."

Shinjiro didn't have any words to say.

"That's why I want to fight, Senpai. I want to find the Persona that killed my mom. I want to be strong enough to deal with it, and even if my Persona is hard to deal with now, I'll make sure that it stays under control until I find what I'm looking for. As long as I can last that long, then it's worth the risk. But don't tell Arisato-senpai, all right? I don't think he'd understand, and I don't want to leave the dorm; I would probably have to go back to the Kirijo Group if he made me leave, and I don't want that. I can't find that Persona if I'm there. Does that make sense, Senpai?"

"I won't tell Arisato," the teen said finally. "But I'm not covering for you either. If you want your secret to stay secret, then pick up your game and make sure you've got your Persona under control."

Amada perked up at the advice. "I will, Senpai. Thanks for the advice, and sorry for dropping all this on you. I didn't think that it would be that much of a problem, but I guess I needed to say that stuff."

"Yeah, I guess. I'm heading back."

"Okay. See you tonight."

Shinjiro left the shrine in a daze, trying to process everything Amada had just said. Losing a mother was bad enough, but having his father go that crazy wasn't something Shinjiro knew before now. And it didn't seem like the sort of thing that Aki would keep from him. Ken had been keeping all that to himself this whole time, it seemed.

Shinjiro was a block away from the shrine when he stopped and leaned against the railing beside the street. What was he supposed to do? How could he make up for this? Killing Amada's mother was one thing, but he never knew that he'd effectively ruined the kid's home life by driving his old man crazy. Not one but three lives changed, permanently, because he'd lost control for a minute. And it wasn't like the kid could go back to his family with a following like that. If his aunts and uncles were religious like his old man was, then they'd call the cops on the kid before they ever let him in their house. When things were over, what kind of life was he going to have?

And how much did Amada actually know? How clear were his memories of that night? Had he gotten a good look at Castor? Had he recognized Castor as the Persona he was looking for? If he didn't, how would this affect the team when he found out? If he did, then why hadn't he done anything? How long could this even go on for?

Shinjiro stepped forward, about to go back to the dorm and think this over in his room, but a sudden, sharp pain lanced into his chest. Almost doubling over, his legs just about buckled from the agony in his torso, and Castor railed around inside of him in response to the pain. He wanted to choke it off, wanted to walk through it, but he knew that the pain would only get much worse if he didn't handle it. With a shaking hand, he reached into his pocket for the clear bottle, got one of the pills out, and swallowed it down dry. The taste was vile and Castor shrieked at him for giving in to the easy way out, but in half of a torment-laced minute, the pain died off enough for him to breathe and stand, albeit shakily.

He looked down at his hand and saw that he only had three pills left. Enough to see him through to the next full moon and maybe a little after, but after that he'd have to come up with a solution to this problem. Either he'd have to take some from Chidori, or he'd have to tell Aki and Mitsuru the truth. Much as he hated that idea, he wanted to figure something out so that this problem didn't kill him.

 

* * *

 

It wasn't often that Mitsuru could profess to being nervous about something. Nervousness, in her mind, was the sign of a lack of forward planning and experience. Exams in school were easily passed with the right amount of preparation. Social engagements were an arena in which one succeeded via knowledge and personal charm. Even operations against the Shadows could be properly conducted with the right strategies and thought processes. Even the challenging events in life could be mitigated and handled with the right approach, and she'd learned a number of methods to handle those challenges with grace and success. But her usual strategies, even her more creative ones, were failing her right now.

She stood in front of her bedroom mirror in her robe and pajamas while the contents of her entire wardrobe covered her bed, her vanity, and every other surface that wasn't the floor. She'd started the morning with a plan in mind for how she would dress for her date with Arisato, a mental roadmap that included everything, right down to which accessories to wear and whether she would use perfume. But once she opened her closet and thought of what he might want to see her in, those plans promptly abandoned her. Every top seemed like it could go with every skirt and every pair of shoes she owned, and it didn't help that most of her leisure attire consisted of clothes she couldn't remember buying. If indeed it had been her, and not the Kirijo stylist, who'd bought them in the first place.

That she was growing increasingly plagued by the questions of what colours he liked and what he might want to see her in didn't help in the slightest. Their fast-food meetings had been of a far less formal calibre than this, and she hadn't given it a second thought to dress how she had. But this was more formal, more deliberate, and thus far less cavalier or forgiving. What was she supposed to wear?

Mitsuru let out a tense breath. She planned to meet Arisato in a few hours, and now she was running behind even her most liberal schedule alternative. Her fingers threaded together as she looked around, for the sixth time, at her spread-out clothes and gave frustrated, un-ladylike huff. She was moving from uncertainty and was now getting rather frustrated.

"Mitsuru-senpai," Yamagishi suddenly called from the hallway, her voice accompanied by a knock on the door. "Are you in there? Can we come in?"

Mitsuru hesitated for a moment. We? Who else was there? Why was Yamagishi asking to come in? She tightened her robe before quietly crossing the main area of her room and opening the door. "Can I help you? I'm afraid I have plans in a few hours."

Yamagishi nodded, smiling rather widely, while Takeba, standing just behind her, replied, "We heard you and Minato-kun are going out today, so we thought we'd come by and give you some moral support."

"Do you know where you're going?" Yamagishi asked insistently, eyes bright. "How did Minato-kun ask? Actually, did he ask first or did you?"

Mitsuru stared at her comrades, blinking in surprise. "How did you know Arisato and I were meeting today?"

"Akihiko-senpai said you had a date," Takeba supplied. "He told us you might need some help."

Mitsuru's eyes narrowed and she clenched a fist so hard that her palm hurt from how deeply her nails were biting into the skin. First the proposal to Arisato, now spreading the news to Yamagishi and Takeba. She was going to have a long, detailed talk with Akihiko about his recent interference in her life. "Did he now."

Yamagishi nodded, and then her smile diminished a little. "But, Senpai... is everything okay? You're still in your pajamas. When are you meeting Minato-kun?" Her eyes widened when Mitsuru told her just how much, or little, time was left. "Wow. Um, do you need some help? With choosing an outfit or getting some opinion or something?"

Mitsuru smiled a bit wryly. "I'm not sure what would help at this point. But if you want to come in, please do. Can I get you anything?"

Yamagishi looked around the main room, clearly taken with the classy decor and the huge TV on the wall. Takeba, who had been here when she'd moved to the dorm and had referred to it as a parlour at the time, stuck her head in Mitsuru's room at her first opportunity. "Wow. Senpai, where are you going to start with all this stuff?"

"You see my conundrum," Mitsuru noted, coming up behind the shorter girl. "I thought I knew what I wanted to wear, but now I'm not sure where to start."

"We'll help you then," Yamagishi declared, scurrying into the bedroom and digging through the piled clothes like a mole into the ground. "Minato-kun won't be able to take his eyes off you when he sees you."

Mitsuru blanched a bit by how fervent her dorm mate sounded, even more when Takeba dug into a different pile and started holding up different tops and skirts for perusal. What had started off as a courtesy and whimsy was looking more like a hijacking. She hadn't expected her comrades to take to her problem with this much enthusiasm, and she was deeply thankful that she hadn't opened her underwear drawer when she'd pulled her clothes out; if anyone saw some of the things she had in there, she'd die of embarrassment. "If you have other things to do today, I won't keep you from them," she told them a bit uncertainly as they worked. "I wouldn't want to take up your time on something like this."

"It's not 'something like this,' Senpai!" Yamagishi insisted, spinning around to face her even with arms full of clothes. "You're going on a date! That's a big deal, and we want to make sure that you have the best time that you can have!"

"Bad dates can be a serious downer, especially if the guy's a total jerk," Takeba added from the side where she was picking through a pile of close-fitting slacks. "Which is one thing you won't have to worry about; even if Minato-kun is a bit crazy, he's not a pig. But the first step to having a good time is to dress up for the occasion, so let's get to it. Besides, if you have all this stuff, it would be wrong not to try some of it out, and you two could use a day off after all the crap we've been through recently."

Mitsuru chewed on her lip. This was the most open and intimate Takeba had been since she'd moved to the dorm, and the advice and familiarity was catching Mitsuru off guard, so much so that she couldn't even object to the idea of the girl giving her advice. "Um... thank you," she murmured, feeling bashful and off-guard enough to shuffle her feet a little. "If you think you can help, then I won't turn down any advice you can offer."

Yamagishi's eyes brightened even more. "Perfect! Now, where's he taking you?"

"I'm not sure," Mitsuru admitted. "He said that he would look after the arrangements. I just know when and where I'll be meeting him."

Takeba hummed thoughtfully. "That's too bad. If you're going to be inside with air conditioning, that's different than going to the park or an outside cafe or something." Then she shrugged. "That's no problem though. I'm sure there's something we can make due with what we have."

"Definitely!" Yamagishi chirped, already handing over a blouse for Mitsuru to try on.

The girls kept her busy for the better part of an hour, trying on different combinations of tops and blouses and shirts and skirts, and when one of them handed her something to try on (which she changed into behind a fold-out screen. She couldn't handle the idea of changing in front of other people, even girls she knew), the other would put away the things they had tried and keep the conversation going. The topics ranged from school, to teachers, to boys and their antics, and as Mitsuru got into the flow of what the girls were doing, she began to relax and offer her own opinions while she was changing. Takeba and Yamagishi were surprisingly easy to speak to, and in short order they were giggling and trading stories like normal schoolgirls might. Mitsuru's cheeks ached from how much she was smiling, and she found that this camaraderie, this feeling, was something she wanted to experience again.

The conversation stopped in a choked hush when she peeled a shirt up, preparing to take it off. She turned to ask the others what the problem was, but when she saw where they were looking, she sobered. The scars from where Metis's Persona had hit her, long and ragged along her ribs.

"Are you all right from those, Senpai?" Yamagishi asked quietly. "You got up and worked so soon after the fight that I think we all assumed you were okay. They don't hurt, do they?"

Mitsuru smiled, trying to be reassuring. The girls had seen her in her swimsuit at Yakushima, so they knew she had several scars from the various Shadows and fights over the years. Being a Persona User, she healed fast almost as fast as Arisato and usually didn't scar very much. These ones looked like they were taking longer to heal, but heal they would. "I'm fine. The doctors have looked them over and made sure that I can still move and fight. Give it a few more weeks and I doubt you'll even notice them." She went behind the screen the change again.

When she returned, she noticed that the girls had laid out an ensemble for her that made her breath catch. She tried to imagine what she would look like in it, not even sure where the component parts had come from, and noticed that her hands were shaking a little when she reached out to pick it up. "This is perfect," she breathed.

"Told you," Takeba commented to Yamagishi with a smile. "It's perfect for the temperature, and you can bring a jacket along if you need to. Minato-kun's eyes are going to pop out when he sees you like this."

"I truly appreciate it," Mitsuru told them, picking up the outfit and holding it up against her body in front of the mirror. "Thank you so much."

"Seeing you happy is more than enough," Yamagishi assured her, pulling a chair into the middle of the room. "We'll get you into it, and then we'll do your hair. Yukari-san's right; Minato-kun won't be able to take his eyes off you."

"We're also going to need some earrings, at least," Takeba commented, walking toward the top drawer of a nearby clothes chest. "Maybe some bracelets too. Do you have something like that, Senpai?"

Mitsuru jolted in place before rushing up behind Takeba, clumsily flinging her hand out to stop the girl from pulling the drawer. It only slipped open a few inches before Mitsuru's weight slammed it shut, making Takeba jump. "Wh- Senpai, what the hell?!"

"Sorry, I'm sorry, but, um, my jewelry is over there," Mitsuru stumbled out, nodding toward her vanity in the corner. She could feel her face heating up, certain that she was going to be as red as her hair in no time. "This drawer is, um, there's nothing we need in it."

Yamagishi looked rather puzzled, uncertainly accepting the comment. Takeba, who had recoiled and pulled her hand back when the drawer slammed shut, looked a mix of indignant, angry, and surprised. "You scared me," the brunette told her, looking a bit cross.

"I'm sorry," Mitsuru replied, quiet and a bit bashful as she stepped aside to let Takeba by. "I overreacted. I hope I didn't catch you in the drawer."

Takeba's hackles sank down as she shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Just surprised. Sorry if I was out of turn there."

"Not at all, I just..." Mitsuru trailed off and blushed even harder. "Anyway, could we continue? I wouldn't want to keep Arisato waiting."

"Of course," Yamagishi replied, going over to the fold-out jewelry boxes while Mitsuru went back behind the screen to change, casting one more subtle glance at the drawer to make sure it was completely shut. Her mind shifted as soon as she felt the fabric against her skin, light and airy, comfortable, and still easy to move in. It felt like something her mother would wear, she realized, and the thought brought a smile to her face again.

"Wow, Senpai..." Yamagishi marvelled when Mitsuru stepped out from behind the screen. "That's beautiful."

"That's definitely a winner," Takeba added, patting the back of the chair. "Come on, let's make you look even better. We still need time for pictures."

"That's not necessary."

"Sure it is," Takeba insisted. "You look great, and you're going to look even better. That's a perfect reason for pictures."

Mitsuru was a bit surprised by the brunette's insistence, but decided to accept it as part of the experience. She turned toward her mirror as the girls played with her hair and brainstormed styles, trying different pairs of earrings as well. In almost no time, her preparations were complete. She had her hair over her eye like usual, but the excess, rather that, falling down her back, was done up in a loose braid rest over her shoulder, securely tied with a red bow near the end. Two small gold earrings swayed when she moved her head, and Yamagishi has found a small bottle of perfume in the wardrobe and dabbled a bit on her. When she looked in the mirror, she couldn't believe that she'd changed so much in so short a time. But she liked the changes, and she was confident that Arisato would like them as well. The thought was enough to bring a calming, happy smile to her face.

"And... there!" Takeba announced, holding her phone up while Yamagishi giggled and did the same. "That should do for pictures, and we still have time to spare."

"I couldn't have done this without you," Mitsuru told them gratefully as she got to her feet, giving a small pirouette in the mirror. Yes this was perfect. She truly couldn't wait to see Arisato's response to her now. "Thank you both so much."

"Glad to help, Senpai," Yamagishi chirped with a smile.

"Exactly," Takeba echoed before clearing her throat. "So, uh, this might seem weird, but if you want to talk about things, like work or school or, I don't know, anything, you'd always be welcome to talk to me and Fuuka. We'd love to talk to you."

Mitsuru was so surprised by the change in subject that she couldn't respond. Apparently Yamagishi wasn't expecting the invitation either, because she blinked a bit owlishly. "That's a really nice offer, Yukari-san, but that kind of came out of nowhere."

Takeba gave a hard sigh, rubbing the back of her neck and looking away from both of them. "Yeah, I know. It's just... This was a lot of fun, the three of us doing this together. We haven't done it before, and maybe, Senpai, you won't have much chance if you and Minato-kun are going out now, but if the chance comes up, I wouldn't mind doing it again. As friends, you know?"

Mitsuru took a moment to process what the brunette was saying, and had to keep her smile in check when it sank in. Takeba had been professional and perfunctory the entire time she had been in the dorm, so to hear the girl reaching across like this was an unexpected joy. Mitsuru could easily admit to being a bit envious of the ease with which Takeba navigated the world of social interactions and friendships, and she'd wanted to get to know the girl more but never knew how to do that, especially with their respective pasts getting in the way. Here was the opportunity she'd waited for, and she wasn't going to waste. A bit awkwardly, she reached out and took Takeba's hand and squeezed a little. "I'd love that," she replied softly, "and I will definitely make time for us to do something like this again. I had a lot of fun, and I hope we can do it again soon."

Takeba's eyes widened a little before she smiled in response, bringing her other hand down to clasp Mitsuru's. "It's a deal then." She laughed a bit. "Now, with that out of the way, we should get out of here. You're going to drive Minato-kun crazy like that, and I can't wait to see him when he loses his mind."

All three laughed, and Mitsuru felt the weights of her responsibilities slip away. Like her father had said, perhaps there was something to gain by letting go and moving forward with the people around her. Perhaps this was the start of something new and wonderful. She hoped so, and couldn't wait to see where else it led her. It felt like happiness.

 

* * *

 

Minato leaned back against the pillar outside of the Screen Shot Cinema, steadying his breathing and trying not to look like he was nervous. He'd thought that he had set up his schedule properly – between his physio, appointments with the doctors, watering his new plants, and getting cleaned up and changed – to meet Mitsuru-senpai on time and maybe be a little early. Instead he'd managed to arrive more than twenty minutes early, and he'd seen four of his classmates pass by already. Some came over to chat and ask how he was doing, some just waved before moving on. He hoped, probably against any probability, that whatever rumours they made up about him weren't close to the mark.

Minato let out a tense breath and checked at his feet, making sure that the small bag he'd brought was still there. He chuckled when he thought of nervous a date was making him, given everything he'd seen and gone through in the last few months. "How normal," he dryly commented to himself.

A few minutes later a familiar pair of colours, teal and pink, came up the stairs of the Port Island Station. He didn't know what Fuuka and Yukari were doing here, but they waved and called to him as they approached.

"You're looking well, Minato-kun," Fuuka told him happily, smiling more than usual. "How are things at the hospital?"

"I should be out next week," he told them. "That's what I'm pushing for, anyway. Can't wait to be out and try your cooking again."

She giggled. "I've been practicing! Shinjiro-senpai has helped me a lot!"

"I'm looking forward to it. What are you two doing here?"

Yukari wore a cunning smile, looking a bit anticipatory and perhaps even a little smug. "We heard that you were meeting Mitsuru-senpai today, so we came along for moral support."

Minato raised an eyebrow, not about to tip his hand on just what was going on. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I'll be fine."

"Not for you," Yukari clarified, her expression staying the same. "For Senpai."

Minato's eyes narrowed, and he was about to ask what she meant when... she saw her. Mitsuru-senpai came up the steps, and Minato forgot where his thoughts were going. Instead of a skirt and blouse, or slacks and a top, she was wearing a long two-layer dress, burgundy over crisp white, with a small coat on top and a fabric tie under the bodice. Instead of her hair being loose and tumbling like usual, she'd done it up in a braid that looked incredible. The wind came up, like in a movie, and the hem of her dress flowed to the side, pulling his attention to her calves and, oddly enough, a small pair of pale shoes instead of her usual boots. She glanced at him as she approached, looking to the side and biting her lip a little. That made him notice that she'd put on make-up, red lipstick, and was even wearing a pair of gold earrings.

The rest of the station fell away. He saw no one, nothing, else but her, and he didn't know how long he stood like that. When his senses recovered enough to register everything else, she was standing in front of him while the girls looked on, smiling sincerely. "You're... beautiful, Senpai," he told her without artifice or even any preparation.

The utter lack of smoothness must have some good effect, however, because she blushed and smiled at him, now his height without her heels. "Thank you, Arisato. You're rather fetching, yourself."

Minato blushed and cleared his throat, and Yukari laughed happily. "I knew it. Totally worth it!"

"Don't tease them, Yukari-san," Fuuka commented, also grinning and bright eyed. "They look so cute together."

Senpai blushed and shifted a little, probably not used to the attention, so Minato cleared his throat. "Thanks for your help, girls. I think we can handle it from here."

Yukari smiled, eyes triumphant like she'd gotten him back for something. "All right, all right. We want stories when you guys come back."

"Have fun, Senpai!" Fuuka instructed with a wave as they left, stopping a few times to look back at them until Minato brushed them off and turned to Mitsuru-senpai.

"So much for keeping it a secret," he commented dryly. "How did they find out?"

Senpai smiled a bit coolly, her eyes sharp for a second. "Akihiko told them, said that I needed help getting ready. I'll make sure to talk to him about it the next time I see him."

Minato chuckled, wanting to make sure he was around for that particular sight.

"How are you doing?" she asked. "The hospital reports have been positive, but you seem like you're doing better."

"I am," he confirmed, stretching his arms and rolling his wrists. "I'm hoping to be out next week. I don't know if I'll be able to fight right away, but I'll be able to come back to the dorm."

"That's encouraging," Mitsuru-senpai told him, smiling and looking a bit relieved. "I hope you're not saying that just to get out earlier, however."

"Not this time. I promise. The doctors have been a lot fussier since last time, so there's no hope of that even if I did want to."

She nodded, then looked around. With her this close, he could even smell the faint, but very attractive, perfume she was wearing. "Where shall we start?"

Minato pulled two movie tickets from his pocket, handing them over. "You're into classic films, right? I found a showing I think you'll like."

She looked at the title curiously, then her eyes lit up. "C'est magnifique! I have wanted to see it for a while but... how did you know?"

"I have my ways," he replied easily. It had taken some phone calls and some guesswork when looking at the theatre listings, but it looked like his gamble had paid off. "Before we do that, there's something I wanted to give you. A memento of our first date, I guess you might say."

"You didn't have to do that," she commented, nonetheless looking quite happy as he handed her the bag he'd bribed Akihiko-senpai to bring him in the hospital. Her breath caught and one hand raised to her lips. "Oh my... they're perfect."

He'd gotten her a set of coloured glass at pieces, a small bell and a pair of dancing shoes. They caught and cast the light in various colours as they sat in her hand, perched and handled so delicately. "Glad you like them," he told her, feeling like he could add another checkmark in the "win" column.

"You clearly planned this all out," she noted, setting the glass pieces back in their boxes and carrying them in the bag he'd given her. "I got the impression that this was the first time you'd been on a date with a girl."

"It is," he affirmed. "But I haven't had anything to do in the hospital besides homework and watering the plants, so I had lots of time to work things out."

She raised an eyebrow, but then settled in next to him. "Very well then, Arisato. I'm curious about where we go from here. Lead on."

He crooked his arm so she could take it, and take it she did. The closeness made his heart trip and skip, but he went over his plans and everything he'd read up on dating to see him through. He swallowed down his nervousness and nodded toward the cinema. "Gladly, Senpai."

The movie was a classic, done in Japanese old enough to be hard to understand at times, but Mitsuru-senpai watched avidly, sometimes digging into his hand as it lay on the arm rest of the chair next to her. When she realized that she did it, she'd stroke his hand and apologize, but then do it again when the next tense scene came up. Minato just laughed and told her not to worry.

"I still feel a little bad," she told him as they left the theatre. "You're still recovering, after all."

"It's nothing," he insisted. "You were enjoying yourself, and that's all the matters. Are you hungry? I had planned for us to have some lunch now, but that can wait if you want."

"Food sounds wonderful right now. Where did you have in mind?"

Minato had read this on his phone, the tests and chances to make mistakes. He'd scribbled his plans into the margins of his notebooks, however, until he had them, and their contingencies, memorized. "This way, Senpai. I know a good place."

The restaurant, recommended by Suemitsu-senpai, was near the cinema and had few enough patrons that they were seated almost immediately. "I suspect that you have the meals planned out as well," she told him as they sat across from each other, getting bewitched stares and looks from all around, "but I would like to make a recommendation on the menu, if you don't mind."

Minato had indeed worked out a menu of things that he was sure she would like, having compiled the list over their various lunch dates, but if she wanted to give some input, then he wasn't going to complain. "Not a problem. What did you have in mind?"

She pointed to one of the stir-fry dishes, heaped with fresh vegetables. "There are a number of things in this one that help with healing injuries. Even if we're not working right now, I would feel better if you had something that would help you get better."

Minato chuckled, touched that she had put that much thought into his condition. "If that's what you'd like, Senpai, then that's what I'll have. I'm feeling fine, just so you know."

"Still," she insisted.

"As you wish," he acquiesced.

They shared a vegetable-loaded stir-fry, the sauce of which made Minato's deprived taste buds demand more, along with a variety of smaller dishes and drink, chatting about everything not-Shadow that they could.

"What got you into classical films?" Minato asked after their plates were almost empty.

Senpai smiled, looking a little nostalgic. "My mother. She took me to a screening of the original Beauty and the Beast, from 1946 when I was around six or seven. She loved the old black-and-white films, especially the foreign ones, and that one was the 1946 version by Jean Cocteau. She'd tell me what was happening, but most of the time she just watched. I learned to speak French after that because I wanted to know what was going on in the movie." Senpai laughed. "It sounds like a silly reason when I say it like that."

"It's not," Minato assured her. "She was important to you and your father. There's nothing silly about that, if you ask me."

"I appreciate it. What about you? How did you get into your hobbies?"

Minato shrugged. "I don't have anything personal like that, I'm afraid. I learned kendo because it helped deal with other students who wanted to pick on the short, blue-haired kid. I never learned how to cook because it wasn't necessary, and everything else I either learned from the Kirijo, or from 'Nako and the TV shows we'd watch."

"What about your postcard collection?"

He smiled, touched that she remembered such a small detail. "There is that, I suppose. I always wanted to travel and see those places, but now? I don't know if they would look the same after everything that's happened."

"Don't let things change you," she encouraged. "Even if things are hard now, they won't always be like that, and you have your whole life ahead of you."

So did she, he thought, and he hoped that she would see that before the end of this fight of theirs. "I'll remember that, Senpai. You're right, and I know that there's more to life than what's going on right now."

"I'm glad to hear it, Arisato."

They finished their meal, and he grabbed the bill before she could. "You can pay next time if you want," he told her over her objections, and when she saw he wouldn't back down, she sat back with a feigned huff, smile in place again. "Now, Senpai," he continued once he'd paid for their food, "onto the next place. I think you'll really like it, too."

She put her arm around his while they walked to Paulownia Mall, passing by groups of students who no doubt recognized them and would be talking about it before their backs were turned. But Minato didn't notice, heading toward Mandragora. When Senpai found out what it was, she immediately stiffened up and tried to pull back.

"Please, Senpai?" Minato asked, playfully tugging her along. "I really want to hear you sing."

"No," she flatly told him. "I can't sing. I've never done karaoke before."

"No one has," he said. "They still try it anyway. And it's not an open stage; no one else is going to hear you but me."

"That's plenty," she insisted.

"Please, Senpai?" he asked, putting all his charm into his words. "It would mean a lot to me if I could hear you sing, just this once. Even if you just try one song, that's all I ask."

She glared at him, but the hard look melted a moment later even when she looked away. "You're cheating," she protested a bit weakly.

"Please?" he tried again.

The fight began to go out of her until she sighed huffily, blushing a red that had nothing to do with her exertions. "One song. That's it."

He tried not to let his triumph show too much, but the look she gave him told him he wasn't doing very well. He took her inside, paid for the time, and showed her the catalogue of songs to try. She previewed a few, shutting them off as soon as she heard the singers. "I couldn't hit those notes if I tried," she told him when he asked why she was skipping through the songs.

"Try looking for something by MELL," he suggested before she used the selection as a reason to leave. "She has a lower vocal range, if that's what bothers you."

"Why do you know that? I thought you didn't listen to Japanese music."

"I don't," Minato admitted. "I've just heard some of her songs from the anime that Junpei watches, and from some of her singles on the radio. Yukari listens to her sometimes."

She looked at him skeptically, a bit put out by how he was between her and the door, but she flipped through a few more songs, found the ones she wanted, and listened to them a couple times before raising the microphone.

Minato was surprised by the low, smooth vocals Senpai produced. She wavered a little, and it was clear that she was reading the lyrics from the screen instead of from memory or her own composition, but for a beginner, her voice flowed around her. He didn't say anything, didn't dare interrupt as she gained in confidence and projected her voice better when no commentary or jeering came. Too soon, the song ended, and Minato applauded when she turned around to look at him, face aflame. "That was amazing," he assured her with as much sincerity as he could show. "That was way better than you said, Senpai."

"I haven't done that since grade school when I was seven years old," she admitted. "I can't believe how rusty I am."

"I couldn't tell. Honestly. Can you do another?"

She looked at him, incredulous. "One wasn't enough?"

"I was so surprised that I missed some of it. I'll listen closer this time, I promise."

She curled into herself a little. "You're doing this on purpose," she told him, almost whining.

"Because you have a beautiful singing voice, Senpai," he told, moving up next to her so he could look her in the eye. "Just one more, and then if you want to leave we can. It's been well worth it already."

She looked to the side, but straightened noticeably. "Flatterer," she accused him. "Do you practice those lines on the other girls?"

"If I do, it's always with you in mind," he tossed back, and she laughed.

"You really are impossible." She stepped over to the computer to try a different song, a slower one, and cleared her throat as he went back to his seat. When she began singing this time, the rust was mostly broken off and the words came easier. Her tones varied more and it felt like she was getting into the song far beyond what her reluctance suggested.

As she stood there in her dress, illuminated by the lights of the karaoke studio and singing for him, he was struck again by how striking she looked. She was as beautiful as she always was, but her stiffness had softened as she gracefully went through the song, line by line. The red of her hair perfectly went with her dress, and she looked like a stage singer at a piano bar, singing her heart out with tinkering strings her only companion. She looked truly happy like this, closed away from the world, and he was spellbound as he watched and listened. He couldn't think of anything except for how everything Kirijo Mitsuru filled the room. Voice, confidence, joy, the smell of her perfume and just her. It was like when they fought side by side and she summoned Penthesilea: this was a pure, undiluted facet of who she was, and all he could do was watch.

It was more than half an hour later when she put the microphone down and looked over at him, smiling and sweating a bit. "It's been forever since I've done that," she told him, taking a seat across from him. "I'm glad I did. I thought I'd lost my voice years ago."

"Did your mother sing to you?" he asked, not ready to leave and let the world see her again. "Is there where it comes from?"

"My mother sang, but it was Father who encouraged me to take choir and singing in school. He always said that I had it in me to sing if I tried hard enough, but I've never done solos like this."

Her father? That was a surprise. But then again, Minato thought, if anyone could be called hard to pin down and understand, it would be Kirijo-san.

"I trust you feel got your money's worth this time?" she asked.

"I got a bargain," he told her honestly, smiling. "Promise me we'll do this again."

"Maybe," she told him in a tone that sounded more like his Senpai. "It's starting to get late, so perhaps we should start going back to the dorm."

"Of course." He led her back to the mall, reaching over to hold her hand as they walked.

"Are you not afraid of what it means if other people think we're going out, Arisato?"

"Whatever comes up, I'll manage," he promised her. "I don't feel like hiding how I feel."

She gave a glad hum in reply, and they idly chatted as they walked. When they were halfway there, Minato began to slow down his stride. This was the first date he'd ever had with a girl he was serious about and he didn't want it to end. He didn't want to go back to the hospital with its sterile rooms and bland food and nurses who only talked about the latest chick-flicks and serial TV shows. Seeing Mitsuru-senpai next to him, her dress tugging in the wind and the smile on her lips, made him want to get as much time in with her before he had to go back.

"Is anything wrong?" she asked, noticing that his pace had slowed.

Minato bit back what he wanted to say. Telling her that he wanted to come back to the dorm and not be at the hospital would have sounded like whining, and not only would his dignity not accept that, but he didn't want to end their date on a negative note. He looked around, searching for an excuse, and then realized where they were. A flash of inspiration struck and, before he could think it through, he went with it. "I was hoping we could go to the park for a while," he told her as smoothly as he could. "It's been a wonderful day, and it would be nice to end it on a high note someplace nice."

She smiled, nodding in agreement. "Very well. Do you have something in mind?"

He reached out and gently took her hand. "I do, as a matter of fact. Come with me." He led her down the street and into the small park, rich with greenery and the smell of leaves, only a few blocks from the dorm. Because of the hour and the season, there was a fair amount of foot traffic in the area, but he spied a private little area off the paved path.

"It's beautiful," she noted, looking up at the rich leaf coverage and leaning back as the shade cut the light and heat out. With the noise from the nearby road, it was easy to ignore the other people around them.

Minato was content to watch her expressions change, the quiet glow of happiness and the lack of concerns and problems weighing her down as had been happening lately. It made his sore muscles and twinges of pain completely worth it, and he wasn't quite done pushing his luck yet. "You know," he drawled a little, stepping in closer to her so she could more clearly hear what he hoped was a low, suave voice, "usually dates end with a kiss. For the really good dates, it's pretty much mandatory."

She looked over at him, startled and blushing, but then her expression changed before he could capitalize on her surprise. She faced him, only opened her eyes to about three-quarters wide, and asked in an equally quiet, low and husky voice. "Would you consider this an especially good date then, Arisato?"

The way she dragged his name out like that made his breath catch. Instead of getting embarrassed like he expected, she was turning his own game back against him. He felt the urge to back off before things escalated, but then brushed the thought aside. He'd provoked this change and he wasn't going to fold without seeing the cards. "I'd say it's been a very good date, Mitsuru-san," he replied, taking his special liberties with her name. "I'd love to have another one just as good after we deal with the Shadow, in fact. The sooner the better."

She smiled and hummed to herself. "That sounds quite agreeable. But on the topic of a kiss..." She stepped up to him, closer than friends or acquaintances would, and leaned over to him. His breath stopped at the look in her eye and the scent of all things her, so close that it was, once again, all he could feel. Her hand, both soft and hard from her calluses, reached up to gently stroke his left cheek, and when he leaned into the touch, she moved to his right cheek and kissed him. The jolt he felt at the touch of her lips ran through every vein in his body like electricity through circuits, tingling right to the ends of his fingers and toes. He could feel her, dress and all, press lightly against him and his hands came up to rest on her hips and side, trembling at the effect she was having on him. "Does that qualify as a satisfactory kiss?" she asked in a murmur that went to his head like a drug.

"That's perfect," he got out. It seemed that, rather than only being the inexperienced rich girl and the kick-ass fighter, Kirijo Mitsuru had some aggressive sides to her, and he couldn't wait to see what other facets she had to her.

She chuckled, moving up against him and wrapping her arms around him, the warmth of her body making his front tingle again. His hands continued from where they were until he was returning her embrace, breathing her in as their surroundings grew more and more distant. "Thank you for a wonderful day, Arisato," she breathed, quiet enough that he almost didn't hear her.

"Any day, any time," he returned, tightening his arms a little as she quietly, happily, sighed.

For that moment, together, under the green canopy and summer sun, with only each other and no one else around, all was right with the world.


	12. Raddoppio

"So the next Shadow's at the train station?" Junpei asked as they gathered in the command room. The Dark Hour had just begun and the baleful moon glowed through the window. "Think it'll try to play conductor again?"

Yukari grimaced, brushing her hair back. "Let's hope not. This one's not on the train itself yet, and I'd like to avoid another ride down the tracks."

"We won last time," Minato pointed out, stretching his fingers and rolling his wrists, testing for pain. What soreness he felt was well within the realm of being bearable. "We can do it again."

"You mean the rest of us will do it this time," Mitsuru-senpai told him firmly. "You're still off the combat roster."

Minato looked at her, working on choking his protests down. They didn't go easily. He and Senpai had argued over that point for days. He'd insisted that he had healed enough to fight again, and the doctors had agreed after extensive testing that he was ready to be released. However, his physicals kept coming back with the verdict of "sub-optimal" where his fitness and reflexes were concerned. To his chagrin, his doctors were recommending another week of training and working out before he was strong enough to fight again. He'd tried pulling rank, but both of his senpai had kicked right back and told him, in no uncertain terms, that he wasn't fighting this time. "I'll still be there if something goes wrong," he bit out.

"It's not going to come to that in the first place," Akihiko-senpai told them firmly. "We know what we're doing, so let's play this one smart. No injuries or screw-ups, no mistakes and let's get through the night in one piece."

The others nodded, sober as they looked at the read-outs on the computer. "We will compensate for your absence, Minato-kun," Aigis told him, decked out in her weaponry and heavy armour. Out of curiosity, Minato had done the math on everything she wore when she hunted the Shadows. Between the weaponry, the armour and the extra ammunition, her entire ensemble weighed around 130 lbs. She looked like it all weighed about twenty.

"I appreciate it," he replied, trying to sound encouraged but feeling like he was letting his people take on all the risk for him.

"Why aren't Ken-kun and Shinjiro-senpai coming with us?" Fuuka asked just then.

"I understand that they have something to do," Ikutsuki replied. "Shinjiro didn't say what it was about, but he promised that they wouldn't be long. Apparently he intends to meet you all at the station."

Akihiko-senpai growled in frustration. "What the hell is he doing? Fuuka, can you get in touch with him?"

"I'll try," their detector promised, closing her eyes in concentration.

"Amada should know better than to go off on his own," Mitsuru-senpai noted, frowning in thought. "This is unusual. Did they say where they were going?"

"Shinjiro wasn't clear when I asked," Ikutsuki told them, spreading his hands and shrugging.

"I can't get anything from him," Fuuka reported, looking concerned. "He's in the city, but he's not answering me."

Akihiko-senpai swore viciously, ignoring Mitsuru-senpai's stern look of reprimand. "He knows what we're doing. Why tonight? What's going on?"

Minato cleared his throat, taking command of the conversation again. "We can't afford to split up. Who knows what the Shadow has up its sleeve this time? We'll need to do what we did last time and deal with it as fast as we can. We can also try getting in touch with them before we get to the train station. Maybe whatever they're doing will be done by the time we get there."

Akihiko-senpai let out a loud, angry breath. "It shouldn't come to this."

"But it has," Minato pointed out steadily. Much as his own condition angered him, the others didn't need to think that they were at a disadvantage despite being down three combatants. He had to step up as a leader and contribute enough to counteract his own uselessness. "And there's nothing we can do to change it right now, so let's focus on the Shadows and get back to Shinjiro-senpai after. Unless there's a reason we should be worried about him?"

"You mean aside from him being out there, on his own, without telling us?" Akihiko-senpai snapped. "And besides the fact that Amada's got the least amount of experience out of any of us and he's out there too?"

"Yes," Minato replied smoothly, "besides that."

Akihiko-senpai visibly seethed, but he shook his head and said nothing more.

Minato secretly wanted to say something more inspirational, especially since he wouldn't be able to help them on the front lines, but his senpai had already covered that and the others were looking like they wanted to get underway. "Then let's get ready. The sooner we deal with the Shadow, the sooner we can focus on this other stuff."

They all nodded and Junpei headed out the door with Yukari and Koromaru in tow. Aigis nodded politely to Minato and the others before following her comrades and Akihiko-senpai bristled, his anger clear, before he left the command room. To no surprise, his footsteps were heavier and louder than usual, and Ikutsuki looked a bit apologetic as he left Minato alone with Mitsuru-senpai.

The blue-haired student let out a breath, stroking his cheek. "What's going on here, Senpai?" he asked, turning to the taller girl. "Shinjiro-senpai wouldn't leave without telling anyone. Neither would Ken, especially when everyone knows about the Shadows and the full moon."

She appeared equally suspicious, looking at the door with narrow eyes. "I feel the same way. This feels wrong, but I don't know why or how. If I knew where Shinjiro would go, then I'd say he should be a priority. Doubly so since Amada's not suited to being on his own. But I can't help on either of these things."

"Then where does that put us?"

She let out a frustrated breath. "I don't know, and I don't like that feeling. The only thing I can think of is what you've already proposed: we deal with the Shadow as quickly as possible and hope that Yamagishi can find both of them before something happens."

Minato nodded, bracing himself for whatever the night brought. "Then that's what we do. On that note, be careful."

She raised an eyebrow, apparently not following the shift in conversation. "I'm sorry?"

"I don't want you risking yourself in the fight or getting careless because of Shinjiro-senpai and Ken," he explained. "We're all worried about them, but if you get hurt, that will make things worse."

Senpai chuckled, tilting her head back with a smirk. "My kouhai is throwing his weight around? Are you telling me what to do now?"

"It's my job as your boyfriend," he told her, trying to be smooth so he could catch her off-guard.

She blushed in the dim light and a small smile played about her lips. She stepped closer to him, close enough that he could smell the soap from her recent shower. "So that's the angle you're taking."

"That's right."

Her smile grew a bit, and she let the silence remain between them for a moment before shrugging. "I take your point. I'll be careful. But you have to keep your end of the bargain as well."

"I will," he promised. "I'm out of the fight unless I absolutely have to step in."

"Good." Her expression changed a fraction. She glanced in the direction of the window and raised an eyebrow when she looked back at him. "And the other matter?"

"It usually happens the night after we kill the Shadows," Minato explained, "sometimes the night after that. But it always happens and never more than two days after."

"Then Akihiko and I will be there," she assured him.

"I appreciate it."

Their business concluded, she let out a steadying breath, her game face settling in. "Come on, boyfriend. Let's not keep the others waiting any longer."

He chuckled. She was becoming more comfortable calling him that, and the previous uncertainty when she was alone with him was giving way to confidence and comfort. "Right behind you, Senpai. Let's do this."

 

* * *

 

Shinjiro stood still in the alley, looking at the scars on the building. Even years later, the damage hadn't been fixed entirely. Cement and plaster might have covered up the salient signs of what had happened, but Shinjiro could still see the places where the impact had shattered the wall. Light burn marks in the alley corner, some scratches on the fresh siding that didn't quite match the new stuff they'd put up, even the pavement under his feet felt like it carried the memory of what happened that day.

He snorted. Or maybe all of that was just his guilty conscience talking. Tonight was the first time he'd been here since the day he'd lost control, after all, and the timing wasn't a coincidence. It was on this day, years ago, that he'd lost a part of himself. Knowing that he'd hurt innocent people, killed someone and fucked up a young kid's life, had been too much to handle back then. He'd run as hard and as fast as he could, hiding behind poverty and violence, using drugs to keep Castor in check. No matter what he did, the emptiness remained throughout the years, reminding him of what he'd done. He hadn't been able to leave Tatsumi Port Island; every time he tried, the nightmares became worse until he returned. But he hadn't been strong enough to face what he'd done, so he'd sat back and hoped that everything would work itself out if he suffered enough. Maybe the universe would fix things if he deprived himself until the balance was struck. Nothing worked. Instead of getting better, everything had only gotten worse.

Shinjiro let out a breath, eyes narrowing in the gloom. It was strange. Talking to Amada and Aki about this stuff had made the weight ease up a bit, enough that he felt like he knew what he had to do. He wasn't sure about it when the thought first crossed his mind, and he was even less sure for a good while after. But, oddly enough, watching Arisato screw up being a leader and trip over himself to ask Mitsuru out had helped Shinjiro come to a decision. It was clear when they'd fought the Shadow at Paulownia Mall that Arisato had something going on under the surface. Something to do with the Shadows that the others either didn't know about or didn't care about. Given how Mitsuru fussed over him when he was in the hospital, it was probably the first option. Yet in spite of that doubt, in possibly being connected to the very thing that he was helping to kill, he still pushed forward. He fought the Shadows like a devil from Hell, he took serious hits in the fights against Metis and Sakaki, and he still had the balls to take Mitsuru out on a date. Shinjiro smirked a bit. If a scrawny, mouthy little shit like that could move forward with life despite being so bad at it, then Aragaki Shinjiro wasn't going to be second-best in the race.

Shinjiro pulled his Evoker from his pocket and looked at the scrawled Japanese inscription on the polished, gleaming slide. Aki and Mitsuru both made a big deal about what their Evokers would say when Ikutsuki had made the offer, but for Shinjiro there was only one saying that came to his mind when he thought of what made him tick: If you have to crawl to stay alive, then stand up and die.

"Oh! Hi Shinjiro-senpai," Amada called to him as the kid turned the corner. "What're you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Shinjiro replied, turning to face this comrade. Amada didn't have his spear, which immediately seemed strange. "Why aren't you with the others? It's the full moon tonight and they're going to need you to fight the Shadow."

Amada's smile wavered a bit as he looked at where his old house used to be. "Yeah, I was hoping to see something before I met up with them. Ikutsuki-san said it was all right."

Shinjiro's eyes narrowed. Ikutsuki? Why? Out of anyone, he'd know better than to let Amada into the city without a chaperone. "That so?"

"Yeah. He said it's be okay so long as I got back before Arisato-san found out I wasn't there."

That was even more fishy. Arisato and Mitsuru would know that Amada was missing the second they called the planning meeting, so sneaking back in through the back door wouldn't make things any better. And Ikutsuki knew as well as any of them how dangerous the city was during the Dark Hour. "He's going to give you some serious shit when he finds out, you know."

Amada's smile turned a bit sad and almost whimsical. "I know. But I had to do this."

"Had to do what? What are you doing here in the first place?"

"This is my old house," Amada explained, walking closer and pointing. "And today is the anniversary of Mom's death."

Shinjiro closed his eyes and pushed back against the memory of a terrified woman's scream, cut off abruptly. The smell of shredded siding and the red of her blood still dug into his senses, just as strong as it had been all those years ago. "That so?"

"Yes. I was afraid of that thing, the demon that took her away from us. When Ikutsuki-san told me I had a Persona and showed me Tartarus, I thought that it was a Shadow that killed her at first. It would make sense, wouldn't it? Shadows look like monsters and they come from our emotions, and the thing that killed Mom felt like it was angry and afraid." Amada let out a breath and his expression changed, turning harder as manic hatred entered his eyes. "But that thing wasn't a Shadow, was it? The thing that killed Mom and ruined Dad was a Persona. Your Persona, Shinjiro-senpai."

Shinjiro pocketed his hands, feeling his Evoker and struggling with how fast everything had gotten so fucked up, but he kept it to himself. He worked to keep his voice steady, to hold back the pain and remorse that writhed under the surface. "So you figured that out."

"As soon as I saw you use your Persona," Amada affirmed, glaring fiercely and baring his teeth like an animal about to lunge. "I could never forget it."

That narrowed things down. It was clear where this little disaster was going, and Shinjiro asked more out of need of something to say than actual curiosity, "What now?"

"I promised myself that I'd find the thing that killed Mom," Amada began, words trembling from the fury as he stepped forward. "I swore I'd pay it back for what it did to me and Dad."

Shinjiro let out a breath, hands still in his pockets as he turned to face the kid. "So you're going to kill me?"

"I'm going to kill the monster that I saw that night," Amada vowed, pulling his Evoker out and setting it against his head. "Fight me."

Shinjiro blinked dispassionately. He should have been afraid of this, like any person staring Death in the face. He should have felt worse about what happened, especially after learning what Amada had been through. But he didn't. Hearing Amada in the park and understanding just how bad things were, he didn't feel like he could go any lower. Lower wasn't an option now that he was staring the kid in the eye. But the guilt wasn't there anymore. All the chaos and pain fell away in an instant of clarity. Instead, he saw the full picture and understood what was going on, and he knew how to respond. "No."

Amada blinked in disbelief, staring like he expected an explanation. "What?"

"I said no," Shinjiro repeated. "I'm not fighting you. If you want to kill me, pull the trigger and do it. I won't fight you."

"You have to," Amada insisted in a cold growl.

Shinjiro snorted, his clarity sharpening his tongue. "I don't have to do shit, kid. Least of all what you're asking."

"Bring out your Persona and fight me!" Amada demanded.

Shinjiro's eyes narrowed. "You don't want that. If I fight you, I won't hold back. I'll kill you, and I'm not carrying that around with me."

"Don't you dare say that!" Amada screamed, his emotions spiking as he pointed his Evoker at the teen. "What do you know about carrying things around?! What have you gone through that comes anywhere close to what's happened to me?! You murdered my mother!"

"By accident," Shinjiro stated bluntly. "Because I lost control. And I've lived with that since the day it happened."

"You've lived with it?! That's a lie! There's no way you could know what I've gone through!"

"She was an innocent person, and she's dead because of me," Shinjiro stated blandly. Years of hearing those words screaming in his head had made them lose their edge when he said them. "She didn't deserve it."

"No, she didn't. Are you sorry about it? Because that won't bring her back."

"Neither will killing me. Nothing will bring her back." Shinjiro shook his head, still running on the clarity of the moment. "Do you know what I lost when your mother died? Everything. I gave up my friends, the people who were my family, because of that. I've lived on the streets and given up the things I wanted to do with my life, because of that. There's nothing I can do to make things right, and I can't go back and change things no matter how much I want to. You have to live with how things are, same as everyone else. If you want to kill me, then go ahead and do it. All you have to do is pull the trigger."

"Fight me," Amada demanded. "Bring that monster out."

"No."

"Do it!"

Shinjiro snorted. Amada's shouting was starting to grate on him. "Not even if you ask nicely. Pull the trigger or go home."

"I said do it!" Amada screamed again. "You don't understand! None of this means anything if I can't kill that thing myself!"

"None of this means anything anyway," Shinjiro pointed out coldly. "Killing people isn't like eating candy, kid. You're taking a life, ending someone's potential, someone's future. That person's gone and never coming back. Something like that should be hard."

Amada's eyes widened, tears gathering as he shouted back, "You're saying that, even though you killed Mom?!"

"I'm saying it because I killed her. It's something I wake up with and live with every day. I know how much it fucked me up, and I'm not going to make it easy for you." Shinjiro took two slow deliberate steps forward, challenging Amada and staring him down. "So do it. Pull the trigger and kill me. Then you can explain to Aki and Mitsuru and Arisato why you did it."

Amada twitched, tears of rage falling, but there was fear and doubt in there as well.

Shinjiro snorted a callous laugh. "Didn't think about that, did you? You're, what, ten? You've got a good seventy years to live if the Shadows don't kill you or you don't die in traffic or something. Seventy years of carrying this around with you, of living with it in every breath you take. Are you strong enough for that? Can you handle ending up like me?"

"Shut up," Amada muttered.

"Do you think they'll understand?" Shinjiro pushed. "Do you think they'll keep you around in the dorm when they find out you killed one of their own? Takeba might, she's a softy, but Aki? Arisato? What about them?"

"Shut up!" Amada shouted, his hand trembling on his Evoker. "I'm killing a murderer. I'm killing the person who screwed up my life! I'm ending this, the nightmares and the pity and everything, I'm ending it tonight!"

"Good," Shinjiro spat. "Then do it and see what happens. Remember that conviction when you go back to them. Or when they come find you, because I'm sure that's what Yamagishi will do."

"Fight me," Amada hissed.

"Kill me, if you think you can handle the consequences and still look in the mirror tomorrow." Nothing happened, so Shinjiro prodded even more. "Go on. Do it."

Amada glared harder and trembled with rage, but said nothing.

Shinjiro took another step forward, his stare becoming fierce. "DO IT!"

Amada jerked at the shout, but didn't respond. He didn't speak, or move, or fire his Evoker.

Several long seconds passed as they stared at each other before Shinjiro grunted. "You're not ready for this. Talk to Mitsuru, get some help, and let this shit go before you do something you'll regret." He turned toward the train station. The fighting had to have started by now.

"Stop! Don't you dare walk away from me!"

"The others are fighting a Shadow tonight," Shinjiro pointed out. "They need my help. I'd make it up to you if I could, but right now the Shadow's more important than waiting for you to make up your mind."

Amada clenched his teeth and glared, but the doubt was clearly getting to him. He was starting to pull his Evoker away, breathing ragged.

Shinjiro shook his head and started walking. "I won't mention this to the others if you promise to get some therapy. Go back to the dorm and wait for us to get back."

"That won't do," a new voice told him, stopping him cold. "Not at all."

Shinjiro whirled to see Sakaki Takaya emerge from the gloom, tattoos shifting and writhing in the low light. "You," Shinjiro grated, stepping back toward Amada. "What're you doing here?"

The response was a ghostly chuckle that floated through the gloom. "Watching the drama unfold, of course. It's been a wonderful little show to behold."

Shinjiro's eyes narrowed. What was going on? "How did you know where we were? How long have you been here?"

Sakaki ignored the questions. Instead he frowned and addressed the boy. "I'm disappointed, Amada. All your talk of wanting your revenge and you fail to take the necessary steps. Where is your anger now? Why did you hesitate? You won't get anything that way."

Amada jerked, his Evoker trembling in his hand. His furious hatred from before was giving way to growing dread that was real enough to taste.

"What do you want with him?" Shinjiro asked, stepping in between Sakaki and the kid.

"Did you know that he planned on killing himself after he killed you?" Sakaki inquired, an unholy interest growing in his voice. "He did, you know. You can see it in his eyes. That hopeless nihilism, that end of hope, knowing that nothing you do will change your situation in life. You should know what that's like, Aragaki, but didn't you see it in Amada here?"

Amada shivered. "Th-that's... How did you know?"

"That true, kid?"

"Why do you care?" Amada protested weakly, his voice becoming empty and toneless. "What do you know about my life?"

The decision was made in that instant. Shinjiro pulled his Evoker out, bringing Castor up from the depths of his soul. He couldn't risk hesitating if he wanted to get out of this fight alive. This guy was beyond dangerous, and Shinjiro knew that, without the others, there wasn't any hope for a second chance if he screwed up. "Leave," he told Sakaki. "Now."

"I don't think so," Sakaki purred, cruel glee showing on his face. "Life is at its most beautiful when it's about to be snuffed out, and those last, gasping struggles make death incredible. I haven't seen how a child dies. Especially one so full of hate for you. I don't want to miss something so exquisite."

"He's not dying tonight," Shinjiro asserted firmly, ignoring the incredulous looks Amada was giving him.

That brought out a chuckle that was rife with anticipation. "Yes he is. Either by his hand or mine."

Shinjiro shifted his weight and readied his mind, pushing past the dulling effect of the drugs he'd been taking and pulling at his deepest reserves. "Not a chance. You'll have to go through me first."

Sakaki grinned, his face lighting up as a familiar blue aura lit his pale body. "That was always the idea."

"Wh... why?" Amada choked out, legs trembling and disbelief in his voice. "You're fighting? F-for me? Why are you doing this?"

Shinjiro snorted. How could he explain his reasons when he was about to start the fight of his life? What could he say that would make any of this shit make sense? There was no way to get everything across in only a few seconds, and he didn't even know what needed to be said right now. "Who knows?" he grunted out, clenching his teeth as his focus narrowed on Sakaki's twisted grin.

Sakaki's tattoos began to glow, and that flayed Persona of his came into view, radiating as much power as it did dread. Shinjiro focused his emotions on the barrel touching his temple, not letting himself feel the fear. Fear had no place in his heart next to the purpose and direction he felt. He'd spent long enough running from the past and delaying his death. Now it was time to follow Arisato's lead and really live. He pulled the trigger with a grunt of effort, putting everything that he was into Castor as Sakaki's Persona shrieked and lunged.

The alley exploded as the two beings collided.

 

* * *

 

Minato swore under his breath, fingering the trigger of his Evoker and dodging a stray blast of energy. There'd been two Shadows this time, not one like before, and both of them were wasting his time. Unlike the last one who'd been able to speak clearly, possessed of a clear intelligence, these two were like small dogs on a sugar rush. They skittered and bolted around the battlefield, their motions as erratic as their thoughts, and they seemed intent on ignoring him. Instead of opening any sort of dialogue, their respective psyches only gave him meaningless dribble and static that sounded like insane laughter.

This didn't make them any less dangerous, of course. He'd skirted the edge of the battlefield as the others fought and he couldn't let his focus down for a second for risk of being hit by a stray shot. He'd had some close calls as it was, and he grimaced as he stayed back. The others bore burns and cuts from the psychotic game it made them play, and Minato was sweating from the exertion. He cursed his lack of fitness, his body still not responding the way it had before he'd fought Metis. He wanted nothing more than to help them, but he'd promised Senpai that he'd trust them. Any promise to her was one he was going to keep, no matter how much he wanted otherwise.

"Just die already!" Junpei shouted, bringing his sword around in a fast arc. The cut connected, cutting deep into the Shadow's flesh and spilling out screams and black blood in equal measure. The others concerted their efforts, using the opening to their advantage and blowing the Shadow in half. It shrieked in its dying moments, and Minato came forward, trying to hear something or see if either of them recognized him. Instead of anything like what he'd heard before, some last meaningful thought in their last moments, they sounded just like they had before. They giggled and laughed like they found his frustration amusing, then the sound died off with them. The same alien sensation from before lifted around him, like a phantom breath passing along his skin and making him shiver, but nothing else was forthcoming. Even the jolt he'd felt from the Shadow in the mall was missing this time, and he felt a strong sense of disappointment. Their job was done for another month and he had learned precisely nothing.

"Is everyone all right?" he asked, looking them over. Yukari was favouring one leg and Koromaru's fur was singed. Junpei grinned and gave a salute through bruises that he was definitely going to be feeling in the morning, Aigis cleared her weapons and nodded calmly, and Akihiko-senpai rolled his shoulder with a grunt. He'd had to dive out of the way a few times, and it seemed that he'd landed wrong at least once. Mitsuru-senpai wiped at her face to clear away the sweat and dirt, but she nodded.

"We'll be fine," she told him. "Were you able to learn anything?"

"No," Minato clenched out. "Listening to them was a waste of time. Nothing made sense, even at the end."

"That's unfortunate," she noted with a frown. "Perhaps the last one was a coincidence?"

"I don't know," he replied, frustrated. "It didn't seem like it, especially since¬¬¬–"

"Shinjiro-senpai!" Fuuka shouted over their link. "Minato-kun, I found him! He's in danger!"

Everyone turned to her, their injuries and exhaustion forgotten. "What do you mean?" Minato asked, trying to sound calm and hoping nothing else would go wrong. "What's going on?"

"I found Shinjiro-senpai," Fuuka repeated. "He's in the alleys, and he's fighting against Strega. Ken-kun's with him too."

A collective hiss went through the team, and they all looked grim to keep their fear down. "Is Ken in danger?" Minato asked.

Fuuka shook her head in apparent confusion, like she was getting information that she couldn't make sense of. "He's... I don't know if he's fighting too. Something's interfering. I can only feel Shinjiro-senpai and the man with the gun. Sakaki, I think it was. Maybe Ken-kun's injured?"

Minato clenched his teeth. He'd hoped that those two would have gotten back to the dorm already. This was bad. "Where are they?"

"I'm narrowing down my search now," she said, her bandana soaked with sweat.

"Can you give me directions if we leave now?"

Fuuka nodded, looking determined. "Yes."

"I'm going," Minato told Mitsuru-senpai.

"You're still not fit to fight," she protested. "And you promised that you wouldn't."

"I promised I wouldn't fight the Shadow," he shot back. "Sakaki's different."

"He's more dangerous than a Shadow!" Senpai argued.

"I have something that might work," Minato replied, a grim pall washing over him. "Fuuka?"

"I'm doing the best I can," she told him weakly. "I'm having a hard time finding them."

"Tell us on the way," he told her before turning to the others. "Split up into two groups. We need to get to them as fast as we can." Without waiting, he turned and ran down the steps, cursing his aching muscles as he bolted into a sprint as soon as he was on level ground. He ignored the protests and yells from the others and pushed himself as hard as he could. He prayed he'd get there in time.

 

* * *

 

Castor roared in rage as the flayed Persona tore into him. The edges of its wings weren't a problem against the horseman's plated armour, but the lightning was causing some serious damage. Shinjiro focused and pushed harder, empowering his Persona as much as he could. Through the pain and flashing lights, he could still see Sakaki's grin. The bastard looked happy, like he was enjoying this way too much, and it was easy to imagine why. It wasn't the adrenaline of a good fight that was getting him up, but the chance to, as he'd said, see someone die after fighting their hardest.

Shinjiro grunted in effort as Castor slammed his opponent back, feeling oddly exhilarated. He knew his odds were bad, and he was fighting with no assistance – Ken was clutching his Evoker and staring like he was at an R-rated horror movie, his fear clear as they fought. Yet Shinjiro also knew that he was doing something right for a change. Castor answered his every call and the sense of purpose he'd felt before had only gotten stronger. This was how it should be.

"Do you think that your efforts will mean anything?" Sakaki asked, his Persona panting in pained breaths as it hovered over him protectively. "Assuming that you stop me from killing you, what will it matter? Amada will still end his own life out of despair. All your suffering will have been in vain."

Shinjiro was breathing hard from his injuries. "Why should you care?"

Sakaki shrugged and chuckled. "As I said, I only care so that I can see it myself. But suppose you die here. Amada will have lost his chance at vengeance, after which he will kill himself. If you survive, he will kill himself. And even should you live, your days are numbered to less than a few years. How will he feel then? I presume that he will kill himself anyway, don't you?"

Shinjiro clenched his teeth, using the time spent talking to get his second wind. Amada hissed his breath in, getting close enough to ask his question clearly. "What do you mean?" he demanded, disbelief and fear in his voice. "What's wrong with Shinjiro-senpai?"

"He hasn't told you?" Sakaki mockingly asked, his smile growing again. "How truly cruel of him, to string along a child's hope like that."

"Shut up," Shinjiro growled.

Uncaring, Sakaki continued. "He's been taking drugs to restrain his Persona ever since your precious mother died, Amada. Those drugs suppress his powers at the cost of his life. Even if he stops taking them, even if he doesn't die here, he only has a few years left."

Ken almost shattered right there, his grief and anger apparent in his voice. "Wh... no... NO! You're going to die anyway?! That's not fair, Senpai!"

"Why should fair matter?" Sakaki inquired, sounding almost happy as he spoke. "Aren't you happy? Your tormentor, the man who ruined your life, will die whether you kill him or not. That's a greater punishment than you could have hoped for, isn't it?"

Ken shook his head, conflicting emotions raging on his face. "No! I... He's not supposed to die from that! I'm supposed to kill that thing, and... but he's... How could that be...?"

Sakaki's smile turned into a contemptuous frown. "Such a hollow revenge you sought. You gave up everything for this, and yet you couldn't take the step to claim what you wanted when you had the chance. You should have killed him before you learned about this. Then you wouldn't have had to suffer the truth. Doesn't your vengeance feel empty now, knowing that everything you sacrificed has been for nothing? You wanted him dead more than anything, yet his death has already been written. By his own hand, no less. Do you feel cheated now? Do you feel your world crumbling?"

"I said SHUT UP!" Shinjiro shouted, pulling the trigger. Castor slammed his fist into the ground, creating a cloud of dust and smoke before charging Sakaki's Persona. The lightning burned, but the demon knight charged forward, hammering as fiercely as he could. Shinjiro used the cover and the distraction to rush Sakaki himself. It was time to end this and hope the others knew where he was. He found his footing easily, knowing where Castor had struck and where to avoid. If he could get into Sakaki's face, he could break him. Shinjiro ran, almost there, fists clenched and a killing blow ready to be delivered.

Until a high-calibre gun fired, the bullet punching through his stomach.

"SHINJIRO-SENPAI!" Amada shouted in a mix of fear and despair.

Shinjiro faltered, his footing lost as he tumbled into a roll. Adrenaline dulled the pain, but the tearing of flesh stopped him from getting any closer. He fought to his feet, saw Sakaki's malevolent grin, and then saw that the gun wasn't pointed at him. Shinjiro pushed through the blood loss and darted between the gun and Amada, bringing Castor in and bracing hard.

It wasn't enough.

The next shot caught him in the chest, blowing through his right lung. Breathing immediately became harder and blood choked his breathing. Not prepared to let it stop here, he gave a final burst of strength to Castor, everything he had left, and struck back with a roaring blow that had the flayed Persona staggering back to protect its master. But it remained there, hovering and glowing with power.

Shinjiro's legs shook. He was running dry. He breathed shallowly so he wouldn't choke, but his head was getting fuzzy from the wounds and the blood he was losing. It was all he could do to stay on his feet and glare at his opponent.

"A hero's death, then," Sakaki noted, smiling like always. "Noble, bright, and futile."

"Stay alive, kid," he rasped to Amada, clenching his fists and hoping for one last shot. "Get the hell out of here."

Amada's response was lost as Sakaki chuckled, raising his glowing hand to his Persona. "Noble indeed. An impressive effort. Well then, as a gift, I will grant you a last reprieve before Amada dies."

Shinjiro stared at Sakaki as the Persona's winged stretched, its gouged-out eyes staring at him in rage. It drew back, then screamed and lunged. Shinjiro pulled his Evoker up in a last 'fuck you' to Sakaki, drawing in what little power he had left as the demon raced at him. He might be going down, but it wasn't going to be without a fight.

The alley lit up to the sound of a gunshot and a collision of Personas.

 

* * *

 

Minato had pushed himself as hard as he could to get to the alleys, his legs cramping up and a body-wide sweat making his clothes stick. He swore at his injuries as he thought of how easy a run like this would have been before he fought Metis. Everything felt like it was passing slowly, too slowly to get to Shinjiro-senpai in time. Fuuka's increasingly-terrified messages to him spurred him on and had him turning corners and dodging upright coffins at top speed, and he strained to get to the sounds of battle that seemed like they were just around the corner with every step he took.

His heart tripped when he heard a revolver go off. He nearly stopped when he heard Ken's scream.

Minato pushed himself harder, breaking into the fastest sprint he could manage. He pulled his Evoker out when he finally made it to the open area where he saw the rampant destruction caused by two Personas fighting. Time slowed as he saw Shinjiro-senpai and all the blood on the ground. Minato saw Sakaki and that winged Persona glowing in blue light. And Minato saw Ken in the corner, his Evoker clutched at the barrel, no signs of damage near him.

Minato pulled as deep as he dared, feeling his inner muscles stretch the same as his arms and legs had, and he fired as soon as his Evoker touched his temple. His strongest Persona raced out of him, crashing into Sakaki's in a collision that knocked the gaunt man back a few steps.

"SHINJI!" Akihiko-senpai shouted as he turned the corner behind Minato. "Sakaki, you're dead!"

Akihiko-senpai and Junpei had followed him while Yukari, Mitsuru-senpai and Aigis had tried a different route. Minato could feel their bloodlust and rage while Sakaki said nothing and smiled more, his arms glowing as his Persona drew back for another attack.

Again, Minato processed everything in a flash of overpowered nerves. He could guess how badly Shinjiro-senpai was hurt, and he knew how little time there was to save his life. He knew that his comrades would have fought Sakaki to the death in that moment, and that such a fight would have definitely resulted in Shinjiro-senpai's death. Ken was looking at them with fear and guilt written all over his face, backing away from them instead of coming over. Whatever his reasons, he seemed to have something to do with this little catastrophe.

Minato raced forward, the only choice apparent and clear. He got ahead of Akihiko-senpai and Junpei, then spread his arms out and stopped. He clenched his teeth in pain as they crashed into him.

"Arisato!"

"Dude, what the fuck!?"

Minato drew himself up and met Sakaki's eyes. There was only one chance to save Shinjiro-senpai's life, and he had to take it. "Let's talk," he told the pale man.

Sakaki raised an eyebrow, his smile showing that he didn't believe what he'd heard. "I beg your pardon?"

"You wanted to talk to me before," Minato clarified, holding the others back and hoping they would see what he was trying to do. "You seemed to have some questions. I want to talk now. We'll go somewhere else while the others look after Senpai. In exchange, you leave him alone."

"Are you crazy!?" Junpei shouted, trying to get around him and line up a shot. "You can't trust him!"

"You do realize that Aragaki's going to die anyway, don't you?" Sakaki inquired smoothly, glancing at the badly-bleeding teen who was struggling to stay standing on shaking legs.

"If there's a chance to save him, then I'll take it," Minato replied. Junpei and Akihiko-senpai stopped pushing against him, but they were even more tense than before.

"Intriguing," Sakaki noted. "You propose a parley, then? With what assurances? I don't particularly trust your friends."

"You ask your questions, I'll answer mine," Minato established, thinking fast. Hopefully the girls would be able to help Senpai and that would be enough to keep them busy. If they tracked him and Sakaki down anyway, then there would definitely be a fight and then they would be in danger. "We'll do it quickly so that there won't be any interruptions from my side or yours. Then we go our separate ways and kill each other some other time."

Sakaki chuckled, his tattoos shifting again while his Persona pulled back a little. "I agree to your terms. I look forward to seeing if Aragaki can survive those wounds. Come then. I will not harm you if you don't attack first."

"Get Shinjiro-senpai to Yukari and the others," Minato commanded as he walked away from his comrades. Ken was nowhere to be seen now, taking what healing skills he had with him as he'd apparently fled. "Get him there as fast as you can."

"You're crazy if you think this will work," Akihiko-senpai grated, already moving toward his wounded friend.

Minato had no doubt that he was going to catch hell for this. Taking risks by talking to the enemy was even worse than if he'd fought the Shadows without being at full strength. But this was the only option, and he hoped that Mitsuru-senpai would see that. "Get him to Yukari. He's what matters. Trust me." With that, Minato followed Sakaki deeper into the alleys, entering the gloom alone.

 

* * *

 

"You're an oddity among your kind," Sakaki noted after they had turned a few corners and reached the deepest guts of the dark passages. "The others wanted to fight me, and I'm sure they have had nothing good to say about Jin and myself, but you want to talk. Even if you're doing it to delay Aragaki's inevitable death, you made a very unorthodox decision."

"I did what I had to," Minato replied, keeping to his side of the narrow passages. Sakaki had started talking almost as soon as the others were out of view, seeming amicable and oddly conversant. There wasn't any tension in him, no more bloodlust or danger than what seemed to be normal, and Minato surmised that underneath the psychopathic tendencies, Sakaki had actually wanted to have this conversation. Or at least, he'd wanted it enough to spare Shinjiro-senpai for a few minutes. "Any one of us would have done the same."

"That's an admirable quality, having subordinates willing to do what you tell them," Sakaki noted with a dry chuckle. "Especially against their own desires. They make life so much more interesting."

"Is that what Yoshino and Shirato are to you?" Minato asked dryly. "Subordinates to keep you at the top of the food chain?"

"No more than your own friends," Sakaki drawled the word out, neither mocking nor approving, "are to you. They know that you are important, so they will do what they must to keep you safe. I helped Jin and Chi-chan when the Kirijo Group and the rest of the world abandoned them, so they help me however they can. It's no different."

Minato narrowed his eyes at Sakaki's familiar use of the white-wearing captive's name. It suggested a closer connection than just a group of people going in the same direction, but that might have been a lie, too. "You don't seem concerned about Yoshino. You haven't tried to get her out of the hospital. If you hate the Kirijo like Shirato does, then why aren't you worried about them torturing her or something?"

"Jin hates the Kirijo for what they did to him and the family that they took him from," Sakaki explained with a careless shrug. "The experiments they conducted robbed him of most of his memories, though he believes that his old life was a happy one. Happy and weak, I suspect. Instead of leaving him where he was, however, the Kirijo gave him a new path in life and the power to take what he wants. He'll hate them until his dying breath, but his hatred is his alone. Chi-chan is the same. She hates the world for abandoning her at every turn, and she will hate it until she dies." Sakaki chuckled a bit deprecatingly. "Don't presume to infer my motives from them, however. We're all very different people, same as you are different from your own comrades."

"Then you shouldn't let Shirato do your talking for you," Minato pointed out. "He gave me the impression that you all hated the Kirijo Group and that joining you would have meant drinking your brand of kool-aid."

"He does have that effect on people, I admit. Not the best first impression, but I wanted to see how you reacted to him. And what he thought of you." Sakaki shrugged again. "I'm not concerned about Chi-chan, however. She's quite resilient, and she has been through far worse than a clean bed and regular meals."

"Except she's still a prisoner."

"For now. Until she decides to leave. Her life is her own, and she is strong enough to look after herself." Sakaki gave a low, haunting laugh just then. "It's funny. You seem quite critical of my relationship with my own allies, but you are ignorant of the motives of your own. You'll understand if I find your persistence on this topic to be rather entertaining."

"You don't know the people I work with," Minato asserted.

Sakaki tilted his head a little, drawing his words out. "Don't I?"

Minato had a bad feeling that he was making a mistake by arguing this point, but he doubled down. "No, you don't. And I'm not stupid enough to believe what you tell me when you've already tried to kill me once."

Sakaki laughed at that, the sound genuinely amused but also chilling. "Such passion. Such fervor. I will grant you that I don't know all of your comrades. Those I don't know are beneath my attention. I was referring to Aragaki and Amada, however. I'm willing to wager that I know them better than you do."

"I'll take that bet. You're lying."

"Believe that if you wish. It will make you learning the truth all the more entertaining. But I'm not lying. Aragaki was known to us before he joined your little group, and he even gave us information on your activities before you scouted him."

"I rather doubt that," Minato replied, pushing for confidence that he didn't entirely feel. "He didn't seem to know you."

Sakaki drew a long breath in, almost seeming to savour the words as he spoke. "Then how do you explain the pills that he was taking? Chi-chan needed them to keep Medea in check. I'd guess that she's had an episode at some point, a case of Medea trying to kill her, and to keep her alive she would have needed those pills. Did you notice them when you captured her? Did Aragaki have them when you met him? Perhaps he showed them to you himself?"

Minato bit his tongue, feeling a shiver running down his spine. Akihiko-senpai had talked about Shinjiro-senpai having those drugs and the effect they'd had, but they had both clamped up when he'd asked for more information. "What's your point? Are you saying that he got those pills from you?"

Sakaki drew a prescription bottle from his pocket and rattled it mockingly. "That's right. He was reliant on our resources, even though he was working with you. That does make it easier for you to be set up, don't you think? It also means that he wasn't as loyal to you as you think."

"It means nothing," Minato shot back. "If you'd intended to ambush us, you would have done it. And you shot your own insider, so you couldn't have gotten that much out of him. Either he stopped being useful or you're just that twisted."

"Ahhh, you're astute. To be honest, Aragaki's information paled in comparison to the drama that he inspired with Amada."

The chill running up Minato's back grew worse, and he tried to maintain his calm but he knew that he was failing.

"You must have noticed it," Sakaki continued. "Amada running off, leaving Aragaki wounded and dying on the ground. These aren't the acts of comrades or friends, are they? No, Amada left Aragaki to die."

"He was afraid that you'd kill him, I imagine. Shinjiro-senpai didn't go down without a fight, did he? Ken ran off because of you."

"The only reason that me being there interrupted him was because he didn't have the spine to do it himself. If he'd been stronger, maybe if he'd wanted his revenge more than he did, things would have been much more interesting."

Minato's eyes narrowed. "Just so I'm understanding you, you're suggesting that Ken wanted to kill Shinjiro-senpai. When he's had the chance to do that for months, had the chance to cut his throat in his sleep or ditch him in Tartarus or do literally anything else. What's his reasoning? Why on earth would he wait this long if he wanted revenge?"

"Because Aragaki killed his mother."

Minato froze when he heard that, any witty words or sharp defence dying off in a flash.

Sakaki pressed on, seeming to enjoy the morbid twist. "Mmm, you didn't know that? Yes, Amada's mother was killed by a Persona that went out of control several years ago. You wouldn't know about it because the Kirijo Group covered it up. Aragaki took to the streets after that, and Amada took that anger and hatred and realized that he, too, had a Persona. A delicious irony, if you think about it. But it is even better when you consider the group who took him in would also have the Kirijo girl and Aragaki's best friend in it. A coincidence? Or perhaps it was deliberate?"

"That's bullshit."

"Quite the opposite. You asked why Amada waited until now. Tonight is the anniversary of his mother's death. One of the houses back where Aragaki is bleeding to death was where it all happened. Amada wanted to make it special, to tie it all together, and once he'd killed Aragaki, he was going to kill himself. He couldn't handle the pain or the despair. He couldn't stand the killer running free. So he used you to find out the truth, and then he was going to take his revenge. He lacked the spine to do it though, and Aragaki intervened when I arrived."

Minato shook his head, trying to push down the rising doubts. He'd known that Ken was lying about something. He'd known that there was something going on behind the scenes, but he'd assumed that his senpai had a handle on it. He'd assumed that the Kirijo had a handle on things if they'd allowed Ken to join. But... what if he was wrong? Shinjiro-senpai and Ken both leaving on the same night – a night when the Shadows had attacked, no less – lent some credence to what Sakaki was saying, and that thought sickened Minato to the core. "I don't buy it."

"Believe me or don't, but do ask yourself why Amada would run after you arrived. You might think that he was hiding for safety, but I surmise that he had a guilty conscience. It must hurt, thinking that you know those who fight at your side, but instead they harbour such dark secrets that undermine all your efforts in just one night. Who can you trust when something like that happens?"

"I'll believe my friends over anything you say, Sakaki. I take exception to the words of a murderer."

Sakaki snorted his eyes narrowing. "Don't speak like you're one of the ignorant masses, Arisato. You're not so foolish as to let minor details cloud how you see the world. People like you and me are above such drivel."

Minato clenched his teeth. "Don't imply that you and I are alike, Sakaki. We're not."

"How can you say that? By the mere function of where we are at this moment, we have things in common. We stand out even amidst our peers, we see more than they do, and we both know that there is more to the Shadows than what is presented. Yet you say that we are not similar?"

"I'm not an indiscriminate killer," Minato spat out.

"Indeed you are not," Sakaki observed. "Quite the opposite, actually; you restrict yourself and what you could do. Perhaps that is out of fear or out of propriety, but you do hold yourself back. I've always wondered why."

"Is that why you wanted to talk to me? To answer those questions out of some sense of academic interest?"

"I admit that I find you a curiosity. No one else is like us, after all, so I thought that I was an exception to the Kirijo's many ignorant assumptions. How are you able to do what you do?"

"I'm wondering the same thing in your case," Minato replied. He didn't know how to take the stuff with Ken and Shinjiro-senpai, but he needed to take back the conversation if he wanted some answers of his own. "We've had to reconsider a lot of things since we met you. For instance, I never knew someone could use a Persona without an Evoker until I saw you do it."

"I have never needed one," Sakaki admitted easily, seeming to go along with the change in topic. "It wasn't necessary for me to bring Hypnos out, and I wasn't the only one."

Minato's breath caught for a second. "Does that mean that there are more? Others who can summon a Persona without an Evoker?"

"There were more, yes. No longer. They all died ten years ago, from the experiments or the Shadows."

Minato's eyes narrowed. If there had been more like Sakaki, then why hadn't the Kirijo Group known about them? Why weren't there records?

"Did the Kirijo Group not tell you that?" Sakaki asked with a dry smile. "You should have a word with your sponsor, given everything that they are keeping from you."

Minato knew bait when he saw it, and wasn't about to bite. "It's an interesting deviation from the norm, that's all. How do you do it? Is there anything special to the process?"

"I don't know. Hypnos has always been there," Sakaki noted, his arms glowing lightly in the heavy gloom, "and he's always been able to come out when I need him. Easier than with Jin and Chi-chan, it seems. What about you? Why do you use that silly toy when you don't need to?"

Minato shrugged. "I've always needed to use an Evoker. I didn't know I didn't need it until recently, and bad things happen when I don't use one."

The pale man frowned thoughtfully. "Such a shame. All that potential and yet you are hobbled by ignorance and the foolishness of others."

"Potential? You're flattering me now?"

"It's the truth, and perhaps flattery compared to those who hold themselves back." Sakaki paused, his smile growing alongside the intensity in his voice. "You feel it too, don't you? A connection to the Shadows? Not the small ones, they are mice before snakes, but the large ones that stalk the nights when the moon is full."

Minato hedged around the question, not comfortable with where this was going. How could Sakaki have known that when Minato had only told Mitsuru-senpai and Akihiko-senpai about it? "You feel connected to them? Do they speak to you?"

"Not to me," Sakaki clarified, "but I can understand what they are saying. It seems that I am alone in this, and that drives Jin quite mad. Do you experience the same phenomenon? You're not asking out of ignorance."

"If you can hear them, then why haven't we seen you when we've fought them? Aren't you interested in knowing more?"

"They aren't important," Sakaki replied in a haunting echo of Igor and Pharos. "Once I heard the first few, I didn't need to hear any of the others; they all seem to say the same thing. They're powerful, certainly, but they are just a step toward something bigger. Surely you sense that."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Minato replied, off the cuff and too fast.

"Do you not?" Sakaki inquired, dragging the words out like he knew that Minato was lying. "I have been forthright in my dealings with you, Arisato Minato. I'd appreciate the same courtesy."

"The jury's still out on that. I don't believe you about Ken and Shinjiro-senpai."

"Whether you believe me or not doesn't change the fact that I spared his life for this chance, and I haven't lied to you yet. You do feel it, don't you? You know that there's more than what you've been told, and you want to know the truth that the others keep from you. Instead of seeing the larger picture you are stuck looking at everything through a crack in the door. Doesn't that aggravate you? Don't you want the truth?"

"Jin said the exact same thing when I met him, and then he tried to kill me," Minato pointed out bluntly. "This little meeting aside, I don't know how much of the truth I would get before one of you finished the job. And what proof do you have that the Kirijo Group is keeping this from me deliberately? It could be that they don't know anything after the Shadows destroyed everything ten years ago."

"So many resources, so many people, and no one knows anything? What an odd excuse for them to use."

"Shadows are very good at breaking things and killing people. It's not that much of a stretch. But assuming you're right, and assuming that there is something more to the Shadows, what does it matter to you? You said that even what the Shadows say doesn't interest you, that it's what's behind them that's interesting. Is that all there is to it? Satisfying your curiosity about what's behind that door?"

"Curiosity is a very powerful thing, and that door, to use your analogy, is fascinating. Every time you kill a Shadow, that door opens just a little more." Sakaki chuckled almost gleefully. "There's something waiting on the other side. Something even greater than what we are seeing right now. It will be incredible."

"The Shadows are dangerous and need to be killed," Minato asserted, "and if there's anything that they are connected to, something bigger like you say, then it's going to be even more dangerous. A lot more people are going to be at risk, and if it is a threat to us then we will fight it."

Sakaki laughed, looking over in anticipation. "I look forward to that. I doubt that even you can do anything against it, whatever it turns out to be, but I want to see you try."

The man's fascination with this topic was becoming hard to understand. Did he actually comprehend what the ramifications were of something worse than what was going on in the city already? "You do realize that this is the Shadows we're talking about here, right? You want to see something that they are connected to?"

"Very, very much." The words were spoken with deep, clear relish.

"That's insane."

Sakaki half shrugged and raised a hand. "And why is that such a bad thing in this pathetic world? Men only a little older than you are dying of heart attacks for fear of their supervisor's ire. The Japanese are breeding less and less, apparently so civilized that they have forgotten how to reproduce. How can you want to protect a world that is so... boring? Our passions and insanities are what breed conflict, and conflict keeps things fresh and novel. Consider your young friend, Amada. Do you think he got to where he is because of his sanity? No. His hatred for Aragaki led him to develop a Persona, the very thing that killed his dear dead mother. His hatred pushed him to use you and your friends so he could get his revenge. He could have stayed normal and ignorant, but he denied the foolishness of a normal life and chose the road of power. He's a fool for stopping when he did, but I cannot fault his passion."

"So you said," Minato shot back with a glare. "I hope you don't mind me saying that I think you're full of shit."

"I don't mind at all. Your denial is expected, and it is beautiful in its last moments. Reality will show you otherwise, I promise, and I look forward to speaking to you after you hear it from his own mouth. Or perhaps he will kill himself now that he cannot get his revenge. Either way, it does make for a delicious irony." Sakaki smiled and narrowed his eyes. He walked toward Minato, and Minato set his hand on his Evoker. Sakaki chuckled, his eyes malevolent and ecstatic at once. There was something powerful in him, Like his Persona was looking through his eyes. "Tell me something: what do you feel when you see Hypnos? What whispers do you hear?"

"Nothing," Minato ground out, hackles rising. "Don't you dare–"

Sakaki darted forward, grabbing Minato arm before he could pull his Evoker free. He seemed about to say something, but he was interrupted by a high-pitched shriek that sounded between them. Minato froze, feeling something deep inside him, deeper than his Personas, react to the touch. Hypnos, Sakaki had called it, and the name pulsed in Minato's head like a migraine, reacted to him as something dark, something terrible, shifted. Like a predator shuddering in its sleep.

Minato pulled up enough control to yank back as hard as he could, and the shriek intensified, sending off a blast of raw power that knocked Sakaki back and blew the grime off the nearby walls. The noise echoed down the alleyways, a heavy silence falling between them as Minato fought with the thing inside him. The thing inside him felt like it grumbled, then returned to its slumber. Just its motions gave the impression of something terrifying, and Minato fought to control a deep, sudden dread. "What the hell did you just do to me?!" Minato demanded shakily.

Sakaki grinned, then laughed triumphantly. "Yes! YES! You ARE connected to this! More than connected, you're more than the Shadows! More than what the Kirijo could ever begin to conceive!"

"Tell me what you just did!" Minato shouted, trying to drown the fear with.

"I did nothing," Sakaki told him slowly, grinning all the while. "That was you. It was all you, and Hypnos simply connected to what is lying under the surface, waiting for you to awaken it."

"Cut the shit and stop lying to me, Sakaki!"

"I haven't lied to you at all, and that frightens you, doesn't it? It shouldn't. That power you feel, that which sleeps inside you, it's part of who you are. You'll learn the truth when it comes out, Arisato, and when it does..." Sakaki shuddered liked he was in a state of religious ecstasy. "...It will be glorious."

"There's nothing glorious about this. I don't want this! Any of it!"

"You will. You're still thinking how the Kirijo want you to think. When you see what lies beyond their hollow words, you will understand." Sakaki glanced down the alleyway, smiling sarcastically. "It seems your friends have found you. That little display has them concerned. We will have to end our conversation for today. I look forward to meeting you again."

"Not a chance. Not if that's what you're going to do to me."

"I only tapped into what is already there, Arisato. When it awakens... yes, we will see how you react when it awakens." With a chilling, phantom chuckle he turned and left, his footsteps becoming muffled as he was swallowed by the deep shadows. In a few seconds, he was gone.

Letting out a trembling breath, Minato pushed the alien sensation down. It went unwillingly, like he was pushing down a body that was trying to float to the surface, but eventually it subsided, leaving behind a sense of darkness, like a parting grumble that left Minato feeling cold on the inside. "What was that?" he asked the dark alley. "What the hell's going on?"

"Minato-kun!? Where are you?!" Fuuka called from nearby. "Are you okay!?"

"I'm right here, Fuuka," Minato called back, walking toward her voice after glancing one last time at where Sakaki had been.

She came around the corner, drying blood on her hands and sweat streaking her face. "Thank goodness. Akihiko-senpai told me about you going with Sakaki, and... well, I'm glad you're okay."

"I'm fine. What about Shinjiro-senpai?"

Fuuka trembled, and tears welled up at the name."

Oh no... "Is he...?"

Fuuka didn't answer. Instead she rushed forward and hugged him hard, bawling into his shoulder. Minato left out a shaky breath as he hugged her back, feeling the foreign sensation of tears gathering in his eyes.

 

* * *

 

The funeral was held at school the next day. Minato didn't know how the Kirijo Group managed to make the necessary changes so quickly, but classes had been interrupted for the afternoon assembly to double as the service for Aragaki Shinjiro. Minato wished he could have done something to help the others, but he'd been awake for the rest of the night fighting with what Sakaki had said, what was sleeping inside him, and how to deal with Ken. The kid's absence and refusal to answer his phone or contact them was an obvious concern to the girls, but Minato had the sinking feeling that Sakaki hadn't been lying. If that was the case, then there were some questions that needed to be answered and a decision to be made about what to do with the kid if they saw him again. He didn't want to believe that maniac, not after he'd killed Shinjiro-senpai, but the evidence was starting to speak for itself.

Minato shifted in the uncomfortable chairs. Kirijo Takeharu was in attendance, having apparently been part of the plans to handle the funeral, and the austere man had been the first to stand and speak about Shinjiro. The speech had been on loyalty and sacrifice, determination and life and had been surprisingly heartfelt given the man's hard demeanour. In spite of such an appropriate send-off, however, their principal still insisted on making speeches that were anything but comforting. Minato rested his hands on his lap, near the wrapped flowers he'd brought, and began to clench them into fists when he heard the snide comments from his classmates around him.

"Aragaki who? Which class was he in?"

"He stopped coming to school ages ago. Easy to forget him; he was a grade-A loser."

"I hear he hung around with the junkies and the hookers in the alleys. He probably died of an overdose."

"Or maybe he caught an infection from some skank."

Junpei hissed under his breath, turning to glare at the speakers and almost rising out of his chair as he did. "Shut the hell up," he growled.

"What's your problem, Iori? Did you know him?"

"We both did," Minato responded, also turning to face the gaggle of idiots. "And he was Akihiko-senpai's best friend. So shut up before we have a problem."

"That a threat, Arisato?"

Minato gave an empty smirk. "Damn right it is."

"Let's see if you can back that up."

"Quiet!" their teacher told them sharply

"Anytime. Bring friends so they can carry you out," Minato instructed, his smirk turning into a cold smile. The expression must have gotten his idea across, because the student who'd been speaking sat back with a snort and the chatter turned to Minato instead of Shinjiro-senpai. Minato found that he could live with that.

"Those who would like to pay their respects may now do so," the principal told them finally. "Classes are cancelled for the rest of the day in honour of our student's passing. That is all."

Minato didn't waste any time in standing up, directly and tactlessly. Junpei was half a second behind him, his face drawn but set and determined. Yukari, Fuuka, Aigis and Mitsuru-senpai also rose, as did several other students whom Minato didn't know. Oddly enough, Akihiko-senpai was nowhere to be found.

Minato went to the stairs leading up to the casket, but let the others go first. Several students grumbled when they had to wait, but the blue-haired student glared at them, daring them to speak. No one did. Fuuka was first, crying into a kerchief and holding a worn-looking book to her chest. She spoke to the body on the casket haltingly, breaking down a bit each time she tried to start, and the most that Minato could get out of what she was saying was that she'd look after the book for him. She stood aside, tears flowing freely.

Yukari's farewell was much shorter. She bowed, tears on her cheeks and her cell phone held in her hand. After her respects she only said, "I'll call her. I promise." Minato had no idea what that was about, but he wasn't going to ask.

Mitsuru-senpai took the longest out of them, standing solemn in a blouse, blazer, pants and boots that were all jet black. She spoke of her appreciation for Shinjiro-senpai helping her in the past, how she knew that he'd always looked out for her and the others, and she ended her words with, "You succeeded, you know. It made a difference in the end, to me and to Akihiko. Thank you for everything you did for us." She bowed respectfully, going over to Fuuka and offering an awkward hand on the girl's shoulder. Fuuka threw her hands around her and started crying her eyes out. Once Senpai's shock wore off, she embraced the girl firmly, a set look on her face.

Aigis said very little. She stood straight and tall and, to the surprise of the others, saluted Shinjiro-senpai as though she were a soldier sending off one of her own. "We will continue on in your absence, Shinjiro-san," she said with surprising gravity. "Rest in peace."

Junpei went up next, jaw clenched. Not solemn or subtle, he spoke through clenched teeth. "We'll find that bastard, Senpai," he vowed, eyes promising bloodshed. "And he's dead when we do. I promise you that. Leave it to us, all right? We'll get him for you." Then he went over to the others, his fists shaking with repressed fury.

Minato was last in line, taking his time as he stepped up to the casket. Shinjiro-senpai's body was under a crisp white sheet, the gruesome wounds he'd sustained at Sakaki's hands hidden for the sake of decorum; it was either that or keep the casket closed. No expense had been spared on the casket itself, a solid piece carved and polished, smelling clean and classy. A fitting tribute to Shinjiro-senpai. Minato stood tall before his comrade, feeling the tears come up again but fighting past them as he set two white flowers, picked from the ones he'd taken home and been raising, on the body. "Like Junpei said, Senpai: we'll find Sakaki and avenge you." Then Minato looked over at the others, feeling their combined pain from where he stood. "And I'll look after them. All of them, Akihiko-senpai included. I can't do anything less now." Not sure what else to say, he let out a shuddering breath before speaking. "Thank you. For everything." The tears fell, the cold sensation still strange on his cheeks. Minato crisply straightened, brought his chin up, set his hands at his sides and bowed in deep respect, more than was necessary at a funeral, and whispered, "Look out for us, Senpai."

Outside, loud enough for some students to look around in confusion, a lone dog howled his grief to the skies. The tone was pained, aching, and several students dabbed at their eyes from the sound. Even Koromaru was saying his farewells.

The teachers and the principal began directing students around, and the auditorium started to empty. "It doesn't seem fair," Fuuka whispered, still holding her book. "He was right here yesterday. How did this happen so fast?"

"It's a bit of a miracle that no one else has died up to now," Yukari noted. "Maybe it was naive to think that our good luck was going to last."

"I surmise that Shinjiro-senpai was satisfied with how his death occurred," Aigis offered. "He was a warrior, and suffering a lasting disease or a lingering demise would not have sat well with him."

"You're probably right," Minato replied. "He'd have wanted to go down fighting."

"Still doesn't make it right," Junpei grated. "Did he really have a chance against Sakaki?"

"Probably not. But you go to war with the forces you have, not the ones you want," Minato told him. "It was a bad situation, and Sakaki took advantage of it. Senpai did the best he could, and he lasted until we got there."

"That's not it though, is it? We can't let it sit like this."

"We won't," Mitsuru-senpai informed them, stepping away from Fuuka. "I have some ideas and some leads. I'm already following them up."

"Good."

"We have to figure out what to do with Ken if he comes back," Minato continued, not looking forward to how that conversation was going to go. "He's part of this too."

Junpei sighed, scratching the back of his head as his anger deflated a little. "How much do you think he was involved?"

"Shinjiro was responsible for the death of Amada's mother," Mitsuru-senpai told them bluntly.

Minato hissed, feeling sick. She didn't know it, but she'd just confirmed what Sakaki had said, and if that madman had been telling the truth about this... Minato pushed his speculations down. If Sakaki was right about everything else, then the problems they were facing were even worse than they seemed right now.

Fuuka looked shocked, and she held the book like she was protecting a child.

"That's impossible!" Junpei protested. "There's no way Shinjiro-senpai would have done that!"

"Are you sure that's accurate, Senpai?" Yukari inquired, sounding tired in spite of her inquisitiveness. "He didn't seem the sort to do something that harsh."

"It wasn't deliberate," Mitsuru-senpai replied. "It was an accidental death rather than a murder. Shinjiro and Akihiko were on a mission, years ago, and Shinjiro lost control. His Persona destroyed a house, and Amada's mother died as a result. The Kirijo Group covered the incident up and we assumed that Amada was taken care of. We're now learning some things to the contrary. It's very possible that Amada has been holding a grudge ever since and he joined SEES in part to gain his revenge."

"Where did you get that information, Senpai?" Minato asked. He couldn't fake surprise or indignation, and he couldn't find the energy to put on an act for the others.

"My father told me this morning," she replied. "I didn't know until now. I wish I had; we could have made some very different decisions before now."

"Did Shinjiro-senpai go out last night knowing that Ken had it out for him?" Junpei asked, incredulous. "Why didn't he tell any of us?"

"Only Akihiko or Amada would know those answers," Mitsuru-senpai replied grimly. "Arisato is correct, however; after this, we need to decide what to do with Amada and whether we can afford the risk of letting him come back to the dorm."

The group was silent, the pall weighing on them even more now. It was several long, uncomfortable moments before Fuuka spoke. "It's silly," she murmured, "but I wish that this was yesterday. Everything seemed much simpler before all this happened."

"That's a sentiment I share," Mitsuru-senpai assured her. "I wish we didn't have to do any of this, but it's a choice we're going to have to make when the time comes."

"What do you think we should do with him?" Yukari asked quietly. "He's just a kid, and he won't last long against the Shadows if we kick him out."

"That's assuming he even comes back. Could be that he took off," Junpei suggested.

"Let's focus on what we can do," Minato told them, trying to push down the rest of what Sakaki said. If Ken was suicidal, then them recovering a corpse instead of dealing with a traitor would be almost as bad for morale. "If we start going in circles, we'll just make a mess of everything. For now let's just work on what we can and handle things as they come. Senpai will get us some answers and we'll see if Amada decides to come back. Aside from that, let's just try and get through this in one piece. Any evening activities are suspended for now; I think we could all use the rest."

There were subdued nods all around, and they went to the shoe lockers to prepare to head back to the dorm. Everyone separated but stayed relatively close to each other. Fuuka and Junpei were talking in a corner, Yukari was looking at her phone and tapping through the menus, and Aigis had gone out the front doors and picked Koromaru up. The white dog whimpered in her arms, getting some gentle strokes in return, but their canine companion seemed to be feeling as low as the rest of them were.

Minato was startled when Mitsuru-senpai held out a kerchief. "In case you need it," she told him quietly.

Minato nodded, feeling his eyes prickle again. It was odd, he thought as he wiped at his eyes; he couldn't remember the last time he'd cried this much. He couldn't recall the last time his tears felt this cold. Had it always been like that?

"Arisato Minato," a man in a pressed black suit said suddenly, seeming to come from nowhere.

"Do you need something?" Minato asked.

"Kirijo Takeharu would like a word with you."

Mitsuru-senpai looked at the man curiously. "Father? Why?"

The man turned a little to address her politely. "He wanted to discuss the day's events, ma'am. Alone, if you don't mind."

Minato nodded. If the Kirijo Group chairman wanted to talk, then this would be a chance to ask some questions of his own. "All right. Where am I meeting him?"

"Please follow me."

"I'll be back," he told Senpai as he passed, getting an uneasy nod in return. Minato followed the man out of the school and down to the street, hesitating as the black door of a polished limousine opened for him. "This is all above board, right?" he inquired, only half joking. "A lot of American horror movies turn bad at this point."

The man cracked a small smile, and there was a trace of humour in his voice. "You have nothing to worry about. This is just a conversation."

"Right," Minato replied slowly before walking over and getting into the vehicle, his guide following him in and closing the door. "Kirijo-san," he said as a greeting, trying not to feel too intimidated as he was flanked by men in suits.

"Arisato," the older man replied gravely, dressed in sober black like his daughter was. The low lighting of the car made him seem older than when they'd met at Yakushima. "I hope that you are holding up well, considering."

"As well as I can, sir," Minato replied, sagging a little. "I can't say I've ever lost a friend like this before."

"And I'd hoped that you'd never have to," Kirijo-san commented with a sigh. "Aragaki didn't deserve to die."

"I agree, sir. The others... aren't taking it well."

"I wouldn't suspect so. Please make sure that they are looked after and that their needs are met. You and Mitsuru will have our full resources to get through this. If anything comes up, you can either talk to her or you can speak to me directly."

"Thank you, sir. I will."

"I heard that you spoke to the man who killed Aragaki," Kirijo-san noted steadily. "That you risked going with him alone to buy time."

"It was all I could think of at the time."

"That was foolish," the man told him bluntly. "You put yourself in jeopardy at a time when your team needed you."

"It was necessary if Shinjiro-senpai was going to have a chance of living," Minato objected.

"That chance wasn't high enough for you to put yourself on the line. From what I hear, you're still not in fighting form."

"Sakaki wanted to talk to me, not kill me," Minato pointed out. "If I'd thought that he was going to ambush me, I wouldn't have taken the chance."

"You're the field leader of the group, Arisato. You can't always do what soothes your conscience. If the others need you, then you have to consider the group first. Even if that means losing one to save the rest, sometimes hard choices have to be made."

Minato wanted to argue the point, but he knew where the man was coming from. Trying to talk to Sakaki had been risky, though less than someone else would believe. There was no way to convince someone of that, however, given the current circumstances. "I hope I never have to make that decision, sir."

Kirijo-san nodded. "As do I. Tell me, what did Aragaki's murderer say?"

Minato took a deep breath and recounted the discussion, not leaving out any details. Kirijo-san didn't interrupt, only asking for clarification on a few points after Minato was finished. "Is he right?" the man asked. "Are you feeling something around the Shadows?"

"Some of them seem to have recognized me," Minato responded, hedging a little. He was sure that Mitsuru-senpai had discussed this at some point, but he didn't want to risk being grounded for suspicion of being a rogue element. "I don't know why or how, and it's not all of them. The two that we fought last night didn't have anything to say at all, so I don't know if it's been a coincidence up to now or what."

Kirijo-san looked contemplative. "And your benefactors, Igor and Elizabeth, don't have anything to add to this?"

Minato blinked, surprised that those names would come up. "How do you know about them, sir?"

"Mitsuru told me about your meeting with them."

That made sense. She was on the ball with this stuff. "I see. Nothing concrete, no. They said that me knowing might change how things are supposed to go, and besides that they told me to just keep doing what I was doing."

Kirijo-san grunted. "A dead end."

"It seems so, and I'm not sure that I trust Sakaki's word on what's going on."

"He's not entirely wrong," Kirijo-san grunted, surprising Minato.

"How do you mean?"

"The children who could summon Personas without Evokers," the man clarified. "He wasn't wrong about them. We learned about them only a few days ago from some reconstructed records. There were others like him, and they are all dead. At the time, only a few could have been called stable, but the rest displayed some horrible mental complications. Schizophrenia, paranoia, psychological dissociation, that sort of thing. Some even displayed a similar incidence to what you did to yourself a few weeks ago, severe internal trauma and eventual death."

Minato felt sick when he thought of the implications. Again, Sakaki had been telling the truth. "Children actually went through something like that?"

"Yes," Kirijo-san affirmed bluntly. " And I take no pride in that, I assure you. My father was a monster, and the world is better with him being dead."

It was strange hearing such blunt honesty from a businessman, but Minato appreciated the candor. "I... yes, sir. Do you know where Sakaki might be getting those drugs he and his comrades are taking?"

"We're tracking them down as we speak. They are unique enough that suppliers should be small in number. I'll get the information to Mitsuru as soon as I hear anything."

"I appreciate it. Could I ask something else?"

"Go ahead."

Minato let out a breath, not wanting to know the answers to his questions but pushing forward anyway. "Is it true that Ken knew that Shinjiro-senpai killed his mother? Did the Kirijo Group know about that?"

"It is. And we did."

That wasn't encouraging. Even if Senpai had said as much, this was confirmation from someone who knew the most out of any of them. "Can I ask why we didn't know that Ken might have been a problem? Given his reasons to hate Shinjiro-senpai, having him on the team at all feels like a needless risk. "

Kirijo-san sighed. "There's quite a story behind that. But you deserve to hear it. Do you know anything about when Aragaki was part of SEES before?"

"Nothing as it related to operations or Tartarus."

The man nodded to himself. "Then I'll start from the beginning. Aragaki joined after Sanada did, and the tests we had at the time showed that he was a suitable candidate for field operations. Looking back on it, those tests were faulty and I suspect that we could have learned more at the time if we could do then what we can now. I suspect that he wasn't as in control as he seemed, and he always fought beside Sanada. They were chasing a Shadow one night and Aragaki lost control. We didn't expect it, and what's worse is that we didn't have the response procedures in place that we do now. Sanada argued to keep Aragaki on, to get him more training and therapy if he needed it, but we didn't even have the chance to assess the damage before Aragaki left SEES and started living on the streets. The guilt had gotten the better of him and he cut all ties with us."

Minato didn't know what sorts of response procedures could stop a Persona that was out of control, but he wasn't sure he wanted an answer in the first place. "Did anyone try getting him back on the team?"

"Sanada did," Kirijo-san confirmed. "Many times. He never succeeded. I was surprised when I heard that Aragaki agreed to join you this time. We'd written him off years ago."

"Akihiko-senpai talked about Ken joining, and that seemed to persuade Shinjiro-senpai to come back," Minato recalled. "Now that I think about it, it would make sense for Shinjiro-senpai to come back if he felt responsible for Ken's situation. I always thought that Mitsuru-senpai knew what had happened though."

Kirijo-san shook his head. "She didn't. She was working with her Persona when Aragaki lost control, training to become stronger so she could help them. Ikutsuki and I were the first ones to hear about it, and we controlled the damage as best we could. I only told her the truth this morning."

Minato couldn't imagine that Senpai had taken such an important detail very well. "Can I ask why she didn't know?"

"It wasn't from a lack of trying," the man noted dryly. "I think she always knew that there was a problem with our explanation, but I swore Ikutsuki to secrecy and never told her. Sanada kept his mouth shut as well, I suspect because he saw Aragaki as a brother and wanted to keep his secret. I kept her from knowing because it was the only thing I could think of at the time."

"She's your daughter, so I can understand what you mean."

"She didn't deserve it back then, though now I wonder if I should have told her."

Minato shifted in his seat before saying what was on his mind next. "Respectfully, we might have been able to predict this if we'd known those details. I'm surprised that you allowed Ken to join the group if you knew that he had a grudge against Shinjiro-senpai."

"I suspected that he might and I had him vetted as thoroughly as I could," Kirijo-san said grimly. "Ikutsuki ran him through the tests twice and said that he'd passed. I was suspicious as well, but the results I saw didn't suggest that Amada would be a liability."

"I could tell that he was hiding something when I talked to him, sir," Minato pointed out, trying not to sound condescending. "It seems strange that professionals couldn't tell that much about him. Are you sure your shrinks were thorough?"

"We knew that he was keeping his family matters to himself," Kirijo-san clarified, "but Ikutsuki reported no problems where Aragaki was concerned. His combat abilities were above par and he seemed mentally stable at the time. You mentioned that you knew he was lying. We put him through a battery of tests to be sure and Ikutsuki cleared him. I admit that I had my own reservations about the matter, but when Amada started to show competency, I assumed that the reports were telling the truth. Perhaps what we're seeing now is evidence that Amada was lying to Ikutsuki, and to the rest of you as well, the entire time."

"I don't like saying it, but at this point I wouldn't put it past him."

"We felt that he was a safe bet," Kirijo-san concluded unhappily. "It seems that we were wrong. Not only from a psychological perspective, but also regarding his reliability on the team. If he ran from Aragaki and Sakaki, then he shouldn't be in the field."

"I agree, and that's going to be a subject of discussion if he comes back. He won't fight unless we're all certain that he'll be an asset."

"Good."

Minato let out a long breath, feeling everything in the last twelve hours press together and weigh in on him. "Pardon me for saying so, sir, but this situation is pretty fucked up. Losing Shinjiro-senpai, Ken taking off, and the others don't know how to take this. If Ken does come back, that might actually make things even worse than if he didn't."

Kirijo-san smiled. "I agree, your situation has the potential to be even more fucked up than it is now. You'll have to handle it properly if he does come back, as well as if he doesn't. That's the burden of being a leader. Same as not risking yourself without thinking of the consequences." Kirijo-san sobered a bit and leaned forward. "But remember that you're not handling this all alone. Mitsuru will be there to help you, and I'll assist however I can. I'm sure Sanada will back your decisions as well.

Minato nodded in gratitude. "I appreciate it."

"Speaking of Mitsuru," the man continued, a small smile appearing on his face, "I have some questions of my own."

"Of course."

Kirijo-san's eye narrowed a bit, and his smile became a bit icy. "I understand that you are expressing a romantic interest in her. That you've been taking her out on dates."

Minato cleared his throat, not expecting the sudden shift in topic. The collar of his shirt suddenly felt too tight and he squirmed a bit in his seat. He'd never had to speak to the father of a girl he was seeing, and he didn't even have the luxury of running now. "That's... that's correct, sir."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I like her," Minato answered, trying to think of what responses would be most suitable, but also the most sincere. "She's an impressive girl, and she's a lot of fun to be with."

Kirijo-san's eyes narrowed. "Fun. Is that it?"

"No, I... I don't mean it like that," Minato assured him, trying to find his words and calm himself down; even the Shadows didn't make him this tense. "What I mean is that I enjoy our time together. It's not just going out with her, there's something more than that, and it's not because of who she is– I mean it is, but..." He gave a disgusted sigh, knowing he was sounding like an idiot. "I don't know if I can explain it."

"How do you feel about her?" Kirijo-san asked steadily. "Is she just a friend?"

"She's always been a friend, sir. She might have been one of my first when I moved here. But the dates and everything, those are... more than that. I think."

"You're not sure?"

"I don't have anything to compare it to, I'm afraid. I haven't dated much since I got here."

Kirijo-san grunted.

"But I do want to see her happy," Minato hastily assured him, "if that helps. I wouldn't do anything to hurt her."

"I suspect that she would make you regret it if you did."

Minato smiled at the thought. Such a thing would probably involve her sword and a thorough trouncing in the sparring ring, and that was if he was lucky. "Without a doubt."

"Except that she hasn't, has she?"

"No, sir."

Kirijo-san sighed, leaning back and rubbing his face. "It's not easy hearing that she's become interested in dating. I've wanted her to be a normal girl since that bastard pushed her to manifest a Persona, but now that she's acting like one..."

Minato didn't know what to say, so he said nothing.

"She's been making friends since you moved here, connecting with the other girls and growing even more than I'd hoped. I thought it was a coincidence at the time, but it seems there's more to it than not." The man gave Minato a hard stare, the eye patch amplifying the effect. "She trusts you, perhaps more than she's trusted anyone else. Do not make her regret it, or you'll have to answer to both of us."

"Hurting her is the last thing I want to do, sir," Minato promised as sincerely as he could. "You have my word."

Kirijo-san took a moment to respond. "Regardless of where this interaction of yours goes, I hope that you will help her. These nights have been hard on you, but they're also weighing on her and you might be the only one who understands how much. Help her, however you can."

"I will. Senpai helped me out when I moved here and she's always been in my corner, even with all this stuff with Sakaki and the Shadows. I'll help her as much as I can until this is over."

"Then that's all I can ask. Thank you for looking after her, Arisato." The man inclined his head in what seemed like a bow, as much as the car and the seats would allow.

Minato felt an added layer of responsibility at the words, but also a lightening of the load. It was probably premature to say that he had Kirijo-san's blessing regarding Mitsuru-senpai, but the man at least knew about them and hadn't thrown him out of the vehicle at full speed on the highway. "Of course, sir."

Kirijo-san leaned back again, looking as serious and solid as ever. "If you have no further questions, then our business is concluded. Remember what I said: you have help if you need it."

"I won't forget, and thank you."

Kirijo-san nodded in parting and leaned back, looking out the window as Minato exited the limo. The transfer student closed the door firmly but quietly and stepped back as it pulled away. He let out a breath, trying to process everything that had happened, and then turned to find the others.

Except that there were a dozen of his classmates circled around him, watching with full interest and no shame. "Why did Kirijo-san want to talk to you, Arisato?" one girl asked.

"Maybe he did something to offend Mitsuru-senpai?"

"Offend her. Yeah, probably because he's two-timing her with that blonde girl."

"Is that true, Arisato? Are you and Mitsuru-senpai going out?"

Minato deflated a bit even as his lips pulled up in a begrudging smile. After everything that had happened since yesterday, after seeing one of his companion lying dead in a casket, the familiar ridiculousness of his classmates was strangely comforting right now. He could handle this. He could work with this. "Kirijo-san was just offering me a job," Minato replied with as much false sincerity as he could project. "It seems he's scouting for high school talent these days and he was asking for my input."

One of the students scoffed. "And he'd care about your opinion because...?"

"Because he knows that I'm always honest about my observations. Especially where my peers are concerned." About half of the assembled students laughed and brushed him off, but several seemed to take him seriously enough to ask for more details. "The most I can say is that they're looking for people who excel in specific fields, and they usually contact you instead of taking applications. If you stand out, maybe they'll call."

The remaining students nodded and departed, talking excitedly about their course of action and wondering if the Kirijo were offering scholarships. Minato rested on a bench and looked up at the clear sky, feeling, just a little, like things had gone back to normal since he'd fought Metis. He carried his good humour with him as he found the others, and as they made their way back to the dorm, he took Mitsuru-senpai's hand and firmly held it. She squeezed in response and gave him a smile that was drawn but sincere. Minato blushed a bit but made the most of the moment. As much as the last day had tested them, and in spite of what they still had to deal with, he believed that they'd get through it together.

 

* * *

 

None of them seemed to sleep well that night, and it was somber in the dorm when Akihiko-senpai came through the door after noon the day after the funeral. Fuuka and Yukari immediately dressed him down for making them worry while Mitsuru told him to answer his phone if he was going to stay away. Junpei and Koromaru welcomed him back with open arms and the mood lifted considerably until Akihiko-senpai came over to where Minato was sitting on one of the arms of the couch.

"We're good to keep fighting, right?" Senpai asked, seeming set and determined.

Minato wanted to let the matter slide. He wanted things to go back to normal, but he couldn't. Something that Kirijo-san told him came to mind and Minato knew that he couldn't ignore the problems inside the team if he wanted everyone to keep going. "That depends. Is there anything else you haven't told us?"

Akihiko-senpai straightened and looked at him warily. "Meaning what?"

"You knew about Ken and Shinjiro-senpai having a past, didn't you?" Minato inquired directly, not pussyfooting around the issue. "You were there when everything with Ken's mother went down. You knew there might be problems, but you recruited Shinjiro-senpai anyway. That's like playing with a loaded gun."

Mitsuru-senpai was stone-faced in the exchange, watching like she was waiting her turn. Fuuka and Yukari looked uncomfortable but didn't leave while Junpei scratched the back of his head, clearly uncertain of which side he was supposed to take. Even Aigis stayed silent, content to watch the two.

"Shinji was living with that crap since it happened," Akihiko-senpai answered firmly. "He needed to face it, or he wasn't going to get any better."

Minato's eyes narrowed. "So this is better? He's dead now, Senpai."

"Do you think I don't know that?" Akihiko-senpai hissed. "That's my best friend lying in a casket, Arisato. Don't talk to me like I don't know that he's dead."

"Then why didn't you tell us?" Minato brought up, not flinching or backing down. "If we'd known there was a problem, we could have handled it or grounded Ken or talked to them or done something. We're down two people now, we all lost a friend over something that could have been prevented if someone had talked about it."

"Shinji's always handled things head on," Akihiko-senpai pointed out. "I doubt you could have stopped him."

Minato growled. His senpai was dodging the matter, treating it like it was done and over with. Minato knew that they had to clean this problem up before they could move forward. "That's not the point. What about the rest of us? What if we'd been dragged into this as well? What if someone else had died there? Would you covering for him have been worth it then?"

Akihiko-senpai drew himself up and glared. "You weren't there when it happened, Arisato. There's a lot you don't know. Don't try throwing your weight around."

"There's a lot that I do know, actually," Minato shot back, pushing off the couch and stepping up to his senpai without fear. "From Kirijo-san, from Sakaki, and the thing that kills me is that I didn't know any of it before now. Also, don't complain about me throwing my weight around. You made me the field leader of SEES when I joined up. That's not just window dressing, Senpai; that means that I'm in charge where everyone's concerned. I'm sorry that you lost a friend, but I don't care if you think it needed to be done. If there's anything that concerns the rest of us, anything that can put us in danger or hinder our operations, I want to know about them. Not after they blow up in our faces, not after someone dies, but right now. Otherwise we can't trust each other out there, and we can't afford that."

The two glared at each other, earning murmurs from the others until Akihiko-senpai sighed and nodded. "This wasn't how I wanted things to end up. I thought he'd work it out with Amada, that he'd find some way of fixing that mess. Sakaki being there didn't help."

"That's not an excuse," Minato pointed out. He hated twisting the knife like this, but the idea of losing anyone else wasn't just a possibility anymore. "We've known about Strega for months and they hit us once before. That's why we operate as a team."

"I know, and I was pissed when Shinji took off on his own like that. But that's not an excuse. I hear you, and there's nothing else to hide now."

Minato nodded before turning to the others. "Good. That goes for all of us, too. If there's a problem, anything that can affect how we work at night, then talk to me or Mitsuru-senpai. Even if it's secret, even if it's embarrassing, I don't want to have to go to any other funerals."

The others nodded, some grimly, and Akihiko-senpai turned to their red-haired leader. "Did you have anything to add?"

"I know this isn't easy for you, so I'll save it for later," she replied rather coldly. "I just hope that all of this was worth it."

Akihiko-senpai grunted but didn't protest. Even though those two knew each other the longest out of anyone in the group, Minato didn't envy Akihiko-senpai for that promised conversation. He wasn't sure that he even wanted to be on the same floor when it happened.

"And I'd like to emphasize what Arisato said," she continued, speaking to the others. "We need to stand together in this. There are still fights ahead of us and challenges to deal with, perhaps harder now than ever before. I want everyone to get through their fights alive, and that means that we need to work as a team. We can't take risks for personal vendettas or be distracted by our own grudges, no matter what they are."

There were nods all around, and while things weren't as bad as before, there was still a pall in the dorm. Everyone went about their usual activities with less energy, and Minato was beginning to dread what would happen if a crisis kicked up right now. Their usual cohesion was missing, and he very much hoped that their problems could be solved with some answers and some rest.

They had gathered for dinner early that night, and the conversations were beginning to sound a bit more normal when there was a timid knock at the door. Curious looks went around the table, but Koromaru's gleeful barking made Minato's eyes narrow.

Ken had returned, coming in and shifting awkwardly.

"Ken-kun," Fuuka said as a greeting when they all went over to greet him, half-circling their comrade. "Are you okay?"

"I... I didn't have anywhere else to go," the boy admitted, looking exhausted and haunted. "I wasn't sure where I should go or where I could sleep, so..."

"Can we at least give him a place to rest?" Yukari asked, looking at Minato and Mitsuru-senpai. "I know we said that we'd discuss his place on the team, but would one night hurt that much?"

"That depends on what actually happened when Shinjiro-senpai died," Minato told them coldly. "We have a place for our team members, but not for traitors."

Ken jerked like he'd been hit, but he said nothing while looking at the floor.

"That's pretty harsh, Minato-kun," Yukari protested. "Ken-kun had motive, sure, but we don't know if he actually went after Shinjiro-senpai."

It turned Minato's stomach to have to think of what Sakaki said, but he didn't have a choice. "Someone knows those details. And if he's right, then this isn't as simple as it seems."

"Are you talking about Sakaki?" Junpei asked, incredulous. "Dude, you know that you can't take what that asshole says as the truth. He killed Shinjiro-senpai! Right, senpai?" Junpei looked to Akihiko-senpai and Mitsuru-senpai, but both had cold expressions on their faces.

"If he's right, then he's right," Minato replied firmly, hating himself for even entertaining this notion. But he had to know. "My concerns are about the team's safety, and if Ken is a threat to that, if he contributed to Shinjiro-senpai's death, then that needs to be addressed right now."

"That's some crappy timing though. You want to do this when it's still raw?"

"Yes."

"What is your argument, Arisato?" Mitsuru inquired steadily, her voice neutral. "Let's hear all sides of the argument before we make any decisions.

"I'll let Ken go first. I want to hear his side of the story. All of it, from why he joined us to why he left the dorm to why he wasn't helping Shinjiro-senpai fight Sakaki off."

"To be fair, Ken-kun still isn't fit for fighting on his own," Fuuka pointed out. "Sakaki's very powerful and very dangerous. You said so yourself."

"I agree, he is frightening," Minato conceded. "He's crazy and he's strong and that's enough to scare anyone. If that's the reason, Ken, then let's hear it. I wouldn't blame you if he scared you that much, but I want to hear it all. No more lies."

Everyone looked at Ken, some with hopeful expectation, others with expressions that were almost condemning. He looked at them all, flinched from some, and then opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He tried again, but clenched his teeth and hung his head, saying nothing.

Minato waited, but when it was clear that Ken wasn't going to talk, he stepped forward and began speaking. "Nothing to say? Then I'll start. For some reason, you and Shinjiro-senpai left the dorm on a night when we faced not one but two Shadows. You didn't tell us why or what the problem was. You just left us to face them without any extra support. Sakaki ambushed you and Shinjiro-senpai fought back, but instead of contacting us, instead of helping or sticking around to see if you could heal him after he took a bullet to the chest, you took off. Am I right so far?"

Ken clenched his hands into fists and nodded, but still didn't look up or say anything. Yukari stepped back and let out a tense breath. Fuuka's hopeful expression began to fade, and Akihiko-senpai's teeth were grating.

"I talked to Kirijo-san today," Minato continued, making sure that he had his ideas in order and trying to not sound too accusatory. "He told me about what happened to your mother. It seems that Shinjiro-senpai killed her when his Persona went out of control, and instead of telling us about that so we could try and fix the situation, instead of letting us know so that someone else might not get caught up in your problems, you lied on your psych reports, lied to all of us, and had an axe to grind with him. And rather than getting help, you kept lying to us until the other night, the anniversary of your mother's death. Did you leave the dorm with the intention to attack him?"

"Do you know that he was lying?" Yukari asked. "Ken-kun's not the only one who didn't like the Kirijo Group when he joined, and the difference between him lying and someone else not giving the right information is pretty big."

Minato nodded, glad that, at least so far, no one was giving in to knee-jerk denials. "I caught him in it more than once. You'll have to work harder at it if you want to make a career out of it, Ken." The rebuke made the boy flinch, and some of the others winced but said nothing. "There's the question of why you didn't fight when Sakaki attacked. Maybe you were afraid, and some of us wouldn't blame you for that. Maybe Shinjiro-senpai told you to stay away, but if that was the case then I don't know why you didn't call us or come find us or do something to let us know what was going on." Ken turned his head, shivering but still silent. "Or maybe, and this isn't something I want to believe, you left it because Shinjiro-senpai being dead was why you went there, so if he died fighting, you'd still get what you wanted."

"That's too extreme, Minato-kun," Fuuka protested. "Ken-kun's not a cold-blooded murderer. He wouldn't leave Shinjiro-senpai out to dry like that."

"Like I said, I don't want to believe that myself. But I was there, Fuuka. Ken didn't fight and wasn't going to even at the end, and when Senpai was dying right in front of him, he ran instead of helping even when Akihiko-senpai and Junpei and I showed up. That doesn't look good." Minato looked at the boy expectantly. "If I'm wrong, Ken, you can tell me anytime."

"I... it's..." he choked out, but said nothing else.

Minato shook his head, disappointment and anger beginning to twist in his stomach like food poisoning. "The rest comes from Sakaki, so stop me if I'm wrong. He said that you went after Shinjiro-senpai for revenge, that you wanted to kill him for what he did. He also said that you were going to kill yourself after you were done. Was he wrong?"

The others flinched. "That's ridiculous!" Fuuka and Yukari argued.

Junpei nodded angrily. "That's too far. That's Sakaki talking. It's bullshit and you know it."

"What do you think, Aigis?" Minato asked. She was the only one who hadn't expressed an opinion yet, seeming content on observing.

"Depression over a lost loved one can increase thoughts of revenge and suicide by as many as two standard deviations," the android noted. "I do not know if Ken-san can be considered to fall into that category, however. I would prefer to hear more evidence before I form an opinion.

"Fair enough. Senpai? Anything to add?"

"You're doing fine for now," Mitsuru-senpai told him shortly, her knuckles white as her arms crossed her stomach. "Continue."

"Keep going," Akihiko-senpai added, his eyes and tone becoming brittle with anger. Fuuka and Junpei seemed about to protest, but he glared them down without another word.

Minato turned to the boy, who looked more and more like a prisoner about to be sent to death row. "Was Sakaki wrong?" No answer, not even a shake of the head. Minato very much wanted to think that his enemy was trying to screw with them, but that hope was beginning to feel more and more empty. "I'm asking you a question, Ken. It doesn't look good if you don't give us an answer. Was he wrong?"

Ken choked out one word, and the air in the room froze. "N...no."

The others shied away from him, looking at him in horror. Nausea hit Minato, and he could hear Sakaki's mocking laughter in his ears. He clenched his teeth, the anger starting to build, and pushed out the next question. "Was Sakaki wrong about any of this? Was he lying?"

The boy shook his head morbidly, looking like he wanted to sink into the floor. Akihiko-senpai looked away, a furious hiss of breath coming out between clenched teeth. Mitsuru-senpai glared at the boy, the angriest that Minato had ever seen her. Junpei looked like the wind had dropped from his sails, staring at Ken in growing realization mixed with pity and disgust. Even Yukari was silent, a hand to her temple as she seemed to be trying to work things out.

"Why?" Fuuka asked in a horrified whisper. "What could be so bad that you'd even think of killing yourself?"

"The resources of the Kirijo Group are open to all of us, Amada. Yourself included," Mitsuru-senpai told him coldly. "If you were having such problems that you were considering suicide, you should have spoken to us."

"It wouldn't have mattered," the boy protested, finally able to speak. "I've talked to people, I've tried therapy. It doesn't work. The feelings, the nightmares, they're always there no matter what I do."

Minato snorted. "So instead of talking to us about this or bringing it up with Ikutsuki so that you could get some help, maybe do something about Shinjiro-senpai that didn't involve a funeral, you bottled it up and kept it to yourself. Tell me something: is this why you haven't been able to fight? All those problems, wanting revenge, was that affecting your Persona?"

"It... kind of," Ken admitted in a small voice.

"So because of your own problems and your refusal to get any help, you could have lost control and hurt someone," Minato pointed out, "maybe killed one of us, just like Shinjiro-senpai did to your mother."

Ken recoiled, looking up in horror.

Minato felt a smile cross his lips. Evidently someone hadn't thought it all through. "Do you see how that works, Ken? Things like this don't stay locked in a corner. They spread, they fester, until they're everywhere. That's why we handle them before they become an issue, because now not only do we know that your judgment is impaired, but you're also not ready to fight beside us. What if something had gone wrong before now? Would your revenge have been worth hurting one of us?"

"You don't get it..." Ken whispered, his eyes beginning to harden. "You don't know what it's like. The pity, the nightmares, all the crap I've put up with. Every time someone tries to help, it just gets worse. You wouldn't know that, though. You have no idea what's happened in my life."

"And I don't care," Minato shot back coldly. "Its sucks that your life's been hard, but I don't care about that right now. You put all of us in danger by lying to join us. You held a grudge that led to the death of someone on our team. You bailed on him when you could have done something to help, and now you expect us to help you because you're having family trouble? Because you're somehow special?"

"I didn't tell you because you wouldn't have cared," Ken muttered moodily, "like you aren't right now."

Minato snorted, feeling like he wanted to smack the kid for his attitude. "I would have cared before your problems had a body attached to them, Ken. We would have helped you before. But a hard life isn't an excuse. All of us have had one. My parents and sister are dead. Akihiko-senpai and Shinjiro-senpai are orphans. We've all had a shitty hand dealt to us, and we've all handled it better than holding grudges and abandoning people."

"I didn't abandon him!" Ken shouted, staring up at them. "He got shot and he was bleeding and... I couldn't help him. He killed Mom, but then he said that he was dying because of the drugs he was taking, and I... I couldn't kill him. He told me to do it, and I couldn't. I wanted to kill him every since I figured out that he did it, but when I tried, I stopped."

"So those drugs were dangerous after all," Mitsuru-senpai murmured. "I wish I'd known that."

"Sakaki said that he'd be dead in a few years even if I didn't do anything, but they were fighting, and..." Ken broke down, knees buckling and tears flowing. "I didn't want him to die. I just wanted the nightmares to stop. I wanted Mom to not have died for nothing, to beat the thing that killed her, but now... I..."

The mood dropped and people began to shift as the boy wept, the sound weak and broken and pathetic. Minato let his pity die at the hands of his anger, however. "That's not enough, Ken," he said softly. "How do we know that you're not still holding a grudge? How do we know that this isn't an act? Even if you regret things now, that doesn't mean that we can trust you."

Aigis raised her hand. "May I advocate for the devil, Minato-san?"

Some of them laughed raggedly at her butchering of the wording, and Minato nodded. "The wording is 'play devil's advocate,' Aigis. But go ahead."

"If the concern has been that Ken-san would kill Shinjiro-san, then reliability regarding his dedication to SEES should not be in question. With Shinjiro-san deceased, Ken-san cannot do it again, so his prior intentions are irrelevant, correct?"

"It's not just about Shinjiro-senpai," Minato replied, turning back to the boy. "It's about the rest of us. How do we know that you're not blaming the Kirijo Group for covering up your mother's death? How do we know that you won't break down later and attack us because you can't kill Shinjiro-senpai anymore? And assuming that you're telling the truth about all that, why should we trust someone who thinks so little of his own life that he would end it to run away? That's not someone we need watching our backs in the field."

"I don't want to leave," Ken protested, a quiet, wet sound.

"We can't just throw him onto the streets," Yukari told them. "I'm not defending the stuff about him lying or hating Shinjiro-senpai, but does he deserve to be kicked out?"

"We're here to fight Shadows," Akihiko-senpai responded coldly. "Even if we ignore the stuff about Shinji, the problem remains that he's not an asset to the team if he can't fight. He shouldn't be here if he's not going to help us."

"It's also a question of security," Mitsuru-senpai added. "If Amada stays here but can't fight, then he's at risk from the Shadows any time that we go to Tartarus. He'll be here on his own, and we cannot split up to protect him if he can't protect himself. He'd be a liability in that case, and we cannot afford that."

"We shouldn't just kick him out," Fuuka commented, tears in her eyes. "Even with everything going on, Ken-kun's our friend. He's helped us as best he can, and perhaps he isn't suited to fight, but that doesn't stop him from being one of us, does it?"

"You're pitying him," Minato noted. "Ken already said that he hates that, so it doesn't help things."

"C'mon man," Junpei replied, "give the kid a break. It's been a shitty few days, so couldn't we at least talk about this tomorrow with clearer heads?"

"Tomorrow doesn't answer where he's going to sleep tonight," Minato pointed out.

"From a tactical perspective, is such a decrease in manpower acceptable?" Aigis asked. "Even if Ken-san's combat skills are below our own, he is still a Persona-User with some experience fighting the Shadows. If he is dismissed from the team, then we will face greater risks in our combat scenarios."

"Can we risk that we won't be injured in the field because of him?" Akihiko-senpai shot back. "If he loses control and takes one of us out with him, then we're really screwed."

Mitsuru-senpai stepped forward, clearing her throat to end the discussion. "I have a proposal," she told them clearly. "Arisato has presented a case against Amada, and his points are valid. However, we operate as a group, and I can see that some of you have reservations about removing Amada from SEES. The security of the team is paramount. Without ensuring that everyone is able to fight, then we risk people being injured or killed. On the other hand, each of us is also an individual, and we all have our opinions and desires. With the hopes of making the best choice for everyone, here is what I want to enact: Amada will be put under the care of the Kirijo Group at a separate location, complete with housing and medical care, and he will be tested more thoroughly than he has been up to now. This will include mandatory counselling to ensure that any of his psychological problems, both those surrounding his mother as well as anything caused by the trauma of the other night, are addressed. He will also receive more training with a Persona so that our concerns regarding his competence in the field are resolved. If he should complete the therapy and the training and he is deemed to be an asset, then he will be welcome to return and fight besides us. If he proves unreliable, or if his assessors feel that he is not suited to join us, then he will not and the Group will make a decision at that point regarding his welfare."

"Where would he be taken?" Yukari asked.

"I don't know yet, but for the interests of everyone involved, I feel that keeping him close would be most effective. He will have to deal with his problems, and that is best done in places he is familiar with. Also, should his schedule permit it, any one of us will be allowed to visit him for social support."

Yukari nodded, letting out a tense breath. "I can get behind that."

"So can I," Fuuka added. "I couldn't sleep at night if we didn't at least try to help him."

"The assessments will not be easy," Mitsuru-senpai informed them flatly. "And this is not a charity. He will be tested and his circumstances will be considered to the greatest degree possible."

"I think that's fair," Junpei chimed in. "Ditching him now feels like something Strega would do, and we're better than them."

Minato didn't point out that Strega's tactics up to now had been very effective. "That suits me, Senpai, so long as we've learned from the previous mistakes and make absolutely sure that he's where he needs to be."

"I've taken that into account, Arisato. I will make sure of it personally."

"Then here's to hoping that it works out this time."

"I also support this course of action," Aigis told them, "and should Ken-san require a sparring partner, I would like to offer my services in testing his Persona's strength."

That brought a weak chuckle from the group, even from the boy who was looking up at them with conflicting emotions.

"What about you, Akihiko?" the redhead asked

"It's better than kicking him to the curb," the young boxer noted shortly.

"No hard feelings?"

"Plenty," he grunted, "but Ken's not the only one who screwed up here."

Mitsuru-senpai nodded and turned to them. "I welcome any discussion on the matter, but if there are no objections then I will make the arrangements right now."

Ken smiled weakly, looking around with what seemed like a measure of relief. "Could I stay here for tonight?"

She shook her head. "The sooner that you get started on this, the sooner we will know whether you belong here. So my answer to that is 'no.' If your situation improves, then we will see."

Ken rose and sniffled, dabbing at his eyes and giving her a shaky smile. "Thank you, Senpai."

Mitsuru's tone turned hard. "Bear in mind that this is not clemency. I'm giving you an opportunity to succeed, but it's also an opportunity to fail, and you will be treated accordingly depending on where you go from here."

"I understand that. Thank you for the opportunity."

She nodded politely. "You are welcome. You should get ready to leave, get what you need out of your room. My people will be here shortly."

"I will." When he gave his thanks and said his farewells to the others, he came over to where Minato stood. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry I let you down, Senpai. I'll try and do better."

"Whether you get anywhere or not depends on how much effort you put in from this point on," Minato replied shortly. "If you're serious about helping us, then prove it with your actions."

"I'll try," Ken responded, sounding exhausted and far less certain of himself than he tried to appear." And I'll try to show you that you can trust me, too."

Minato smirked a little. On one hand, it was easy to be cynical when so much had gone wrong so quickly. It was easy to blame Ken for the problems that had come about because of his vendetta. But on the other hand, Minato saw glimpses of the iron will that had begun to harness the power of a Persona, and he knew that if Ken did get better instead of worse, he'd be a force to be reckoned with. Not willing to get his hopes up too high, Minato just replied, "Focus on what's in front of you and do what you have to. We'll see where you go from there."

 

* * *

 

For the third night in a row, Minato was still awake as the Dark Hour approached. He'd napped after picking at his cold dinner, but months of fighting at night had trained his body to rise to consciousness in the few minutes before midnight, whether he wanted to or not. He rose from his bed and walked to his window, watching the empty city bathed in the light of the now-waning moon. There was something beautiful about the stillness as autumn approached, an edge in the air that harkened the approach to a cold winter. Minato tried to think of the happy times he'd had in the snow with his sister, but his thoughts kept returning to the past few days. Shinjiro-senpai, the casket, the fight with Ken all replayed themselves in his head and taunted him with Sakaki's voice until he clenched his fists to push them away.

"Hello, Big Brother," the familiar voice greeted him from his bed. Minato turned to address Pharos, but something was very different this time. It felt like he could pick out the boy's outline in the gloom, like he knew where Pharos was even before he laid eyes on him. "Is everything okay? You seem different now."

"It's been a bad few days," Minato admitted after a moment, still uneasy. Pharos's voice felt like an echo across his soul, stirring his Personas but not waking them up. Which was odd, Minato realized, given how they reacted to everything else around him. In fact, Minato wasn't even sure that he was only hearing Pharos with his ears now. "A friend of mine died a few days ago."

Pharos's smile waned into a mix of sorrow and thoughtfulness. "Died? That's unfortunate. Losing friends... that must be difficult."

Minato raised an eyebrow. "You've never lost friends before?"

"None except you," the boy replied. "I don't think I've had any friends besides you before. I'm sorry if it hurts."

Minato shrugged, not wanting to delve into his twisting emotions. "I'll manage."

Pharos hopped off the bed and walked over, looking up discerningly. "Will you? You're not the same as you were before. Was it the argument you had earlier tonight?"

Minato blinked in surprise. "How would you know about that?"

"I know a lot about you," Pharos told him almost happily, "and it's clear that something's on your mind. The one who ran from your dying friend. Everything was resolved, but you're still angry at him, aren't you? It's okay, you can tell me."

"You've never commented on my problems before. I didn't think you cared about stuff like that. What's changed?"

The boy shrugged, his clothes seeming brighter in the green of the Dark Hour. "They've never bothered you enough to bring up. Not the blonde machine, or the Shadows, or all the stuff at school. It's all been there, but this is the first time it's really gotten to you, and I can feel it from here."

That was an odd observation to make. Considering the direction things were going in, it would have been far weirder if he hadn't felt anything. "There have been plenty of things that have bothered me before, Pharos."

"Then maybe you've been holding them back until now. Or perhaps you've changed. Aside from your friend dying, is there anything else that's bothering you? Maybe something else happened."

If Pharos knew about Shinjiro-senpai and Ken, then the only other thing that had changed was the meeting with Sakaki and the... whatever had happened there. Minato's eyes narrowed. Sakaki had affected him on the level of his Personas, and Pharos was suggesting that something there had changed. Did Pharos operate on the levels of his Personas? Or was he just that observant? Odds were good that the kid wouldn't answer his questions directly, and Minato had other things to do this time. "There's something I want to ask you," Minato told the boy. "Why don't you show up when the others are around?"

Pharos blinked, then smiled disarmingly. "We've talked about this before. They're not important to what's going on right now. You are, so I talk to you."

"It seems like everyone's telling me that no one else matters," Minato noted slowly, staring hard at the boy, "that I'm the only important one here."

"Then you should probably start listening to them," Pharos chuckled. "They know what they're talking about."

"That's not good enough. My friends are important to me, so it only makes sense that I keep them in the loop." Before Pharos could respond, Minato focused his eyes on the boy and called, "Senpai!"

The door opened and Mitsuru-senpai and Akihiko-senpai came in, both looking around. Except they looked right past where Pharos was perched on his bed. "Is he here?" she asked, sounding a bit bewildered. "You said that he disappears at times. Did he escape?"

Minato growled a little as he stared at the boy, whose smile turned into a mischievous grin. "You're doing that, aren't you? What's wrong? I wouldn't have expected you to have stage fright."

"They're not important, Brother," Pharos insisted, almost sounding chiding. "I told you as much."

"I want them to see you. It might help prove that I'm not just going crazy." Though he had to look crazy right now, talking to a person in his room that his senpai couldn't see. "They stayed up just to meet you, so shouldn't you introduce yourself?"

"I don't think that's necessary," Pharos said in parting.

Minato felt the shift in his soul, like a current was reversing and flowing back into him. He didn't know why it felt like that, or why he hadn't felt it before, but he clenched his fists and slammed down on it, stopping the sensation as he pushed back. "No," he grated out. "You're not running this time."

Pharos struggled in response, surprise showing on his face as he staggered back. "Brother?"

"You can stay here for a little longer," Minato told him coldly. "We're not done yet."

Mitsuru-senpai looked over, concern in her eyes. "Arisato, what's wrong?"

Pharos panted in effort, seeming to push against Minato's force of will. Pushing and failing. He fell back against the bed, letting out a breath of defeat as his legs gave out. Akihiko-senpai and Mitsuru-senpai jumped in surprise, apparently able to see him now. "You're not running away this time," Minato established, straightening and glaring at the boy. "I want some answers about all this. About everything that's going on."

Mitsuru-senpai was looking between Pharos and Minato with an expression of growing realization on her face while Akihiko-senpai seemed curious. The boy looked at them, apparently accepting that the gig was up, and he nodded as his smile returned. "Okay, Brother. I'll make an exception this time."

Like he had a choice. "You're too kind."

"Good evening," the boy told the two older teens, bowing exaggeratedly. "I'm Pharos. It's nice to meet you."

"You as well," Mitsuru-senpai replied quietly.

"Likewise," Akihiko-senpai said, raising an eyebrow. "Did you escape from somewhere? What's with the prison clothes?"

"These were all I could find," Pharos joked, getting up to sit on the edge of the bed, folding his hands in his lap as though he hadn't done anything wrong. "And I had to wear something, right?"

"Were you a prisoner of somewhere?" the boxer inquired. "Where did you come from?"

The boy frowned thoughtfully. "That's not an easy question to answer."

"We have all night, Pharos," Minato told him firmly.

"It's not that I won't answer the question, Brother. I can't because I'm not sure what the answer is."

Minato raised an eyebrow, keeping a firm grip on... whatever it was that allowed him to keep Pharos in place. "Why not?"

"I can't remember much of my own life before you came to the dorm," Pharos admitted. "I remember my family, but they went away a long time ago, and that's about it."

"So why are you helping me? If you can't remember anything, then why bother?"

"I know that you're important, and I know that what you're doing is necessary. That's why I help you when I can."

"Have you never questioned that feeling?" Mitsuru-senpai asked. "Never wondered where it came from or why you have such a compulsion in the first place?"

Pharos hummed to himself, thoughtful. "It's always been there. It's a bit like breathing, or moving your legs when you want to walk. You don't really question how you do those things, you just do them to get somewhere."

"But we understand the processes that make those things happen," Mitsuru-senpai countered. "We need oxygen for cellular respiration and to keep the heart beating. Locomotion is achieved through the firing of neural impulses and the tightening of muscle fibres. Just because we don't actively tell our bodies to do those things doesn't mean we can't understand how they work."

Pharos spread his hands apologetically. "Then it might not have been the best example. I'm just here to help my Big Brother, nothing more."

"Is it possible that the example is accurate?" Mitsuru-senpai persisted. "Maybe you're like the lungs in your breathing example, there to perform a function as part of a larger system."

"That might be it. You're really smart, if you don't mind me saying so."

She seemed to ignore the compliment, pressing forward. "If that's the case, however, then it would stand to reason that there's a design in mind. And a designer. A brain and a consciousness to the body, if you will. Do you know who or what that might be?"

"I don't, sorry. I'm here to help when and how I can. That's all."

"Is there a reason that you look like Arisato?" Akihiko-senpai asked unexpectedly.

Minato raised an eyebrow, not expecting that question. "We do? I don't think we look that similar."

"You do," Mitsuru-senpai confirmed. "I saw Kirijo Group photos of you after the incident ten years ago, and Pharos here bears a very strong resemblance to how you looked then."

"Strange coincidence," Minato noted, looking at Pharos for an answer.

"I am who I am," Pharos answered, smiling back. "I didn't get to choose how I look."

"What else do you know about everything that's going on here?" Minato asked. "The Shadows, the Dark Hour, all of it. It's not a coincidence that you only show up at this time, is it?"

"Not completely a coincidence, no."

"Well, let's hear it," Minato prompted.

"There's not a lot to say that you don't already know," the boy informed them. "You're on your way to dealing with the larger Shadows, and that's what you're supposed to do. So long as you do, then everything's going in the right direction."

"Do you know why it's the right direction? Or is it another feeling of yours?"

Pharos pursed his lips and was silent for a moment, then gave an apologetic shrug. "It's the second option. Sorry about that."

"More questions than answers," Akihiko-senpai grunted. "Do you know Igor and Elizabeth-san?"

"The old guy and the funny lady? We've never met, but I know that they work with Big Brother a lot. She always has a good time when she's exploring the city, and she has the best outfits and stories. The way she talks is funny, too."

"You know what she's like even though you've never met?" Minato asked.

"I see her through your eyes, and you think about all the trouble she causes you sometimes. Even if it's a hassle, she's still a friend, isn't she?"

"Picking things out of my head, are you?"

"Should I not do that?"

Minato picked a different line of inquiry as a new idea came to mind. "You've talked a lot about what you can't say, but are there things that you can tell us that you haven't yet?"

Pharos looked genuinely curious at the question, taking a few seconds to answer. "Hmmm... I don't know. It's not like I have something specific to tell you when I visit you. I just say what comes to mind at the time."

"That sounds like you're responding to prompts. So if I ask you different questions, then you might have more to say?"

Pharos shrugged. "It could happen, I think. I'm not sure."

"Then let's try it. Why did you warn me about Metis? You only talk to me when we're here. Why did you pipe up that one time?"

The boy's eyes narrowed. "She was dangerous. She was going to attack you no matter what, and I wanted to make sure that you had a fighting chance. If she had ambushed you or attacked you from behind, things might have ended a lot worse than they did."

"It's funny you say that, because the timing makes me think that she heard you or thought that you were a threat, and that's why she went crazy."

Pharos shook his head. "This is the first time anyone else has been able to hear me or see me, so I don't know if that's the case. Even if she could hear me, why would that make her angry enough to attack?"

"That's what I'm asking you. I'm also wondering if Aigis can detect you, or if you're hiding from her as well."

"You'd have to ask her about that. Same as with the other robot. They look neat, but I don't know much about them besides that."

Minato narrowed his eyes. The kid's answers felt off this time, like the episode with Metis wasn't completely above board. Was he lying? And if he was, why?

"The timing of your appearances suggests that you have some connection to the larger Shadows," Mitsuru-senpai observed. "That can't be a coincidence."

Pharos shrugged. "I come to visit Big Brother when I can. I don't get to control when that is."

"Do you know why the Shadows recognize him? He says that they speak to him and he seems to be able to hear them, but none of us can."

"I'd also like to know why Sakaki can hear them when you said that Strega was irrelevant," Minato brought up.

Pharos smiled a little. "Ahhh, that one. He's going in the same direction as you, so he can hear them too. He doesn't seem to care about that, though."

"He said as much." Minato thought over his next question, preparing himself for any odd reaction like last time. "Does this have something to do with the Appriser?"

Pharos gasped and bolted back against the bed frame, crashing into it hard enough to shake it. "Don't say that word, Big Brother!" he whispered, fear clear in his eyes.

"Why not? What is the App¬–"

"DON'T!" Pharos shrieked, covering his head. "Don't say it. Not here, not anywhere, not for any reason."

"What's the matter?"

"It's a bad word!" the kid insisted fervently.

"It's just a word."

He shook his head furiously. "No! No no no no, it's more than a word. It's an idea, a thing, and it's not ready to come out yet."

"He's starting to creep me out," Akihiko-senpai told them dryly.

"Igor and Elizabeth-san were very cautious about the word as well," Mitsuru-senpai noted. "It seems to be significant in this situation."

"I'd love to know why," Minato commented.

Pharos rocked back and forth a little, eyes losing focus for a moment until he seemed to calm down. "The next one," he told them slowly, almost mechanically. "The next one is the last one. And then you'll know what it means."

The three looked at each other. "The next one?" Akihiko-senpai asked. "Do you mean the next Shadow?"

"Yes."

"That's when that word will make sense?" Minato inquired, surprised that he was suddenly getting answers this easily. "Just because we kill a Shadow?"

"Yes."

"How?"

Pharos let out a long breath. "It just will. And things... might get hard after that."

"They've been hard this entire time. Why are you warning me now?"

Pharos said nothing. He looked up and stared at them, his eyes solemn.

Minato felt something sinking in his stomach, and a trace of dread ran through him. "You mean they're going to get worse?"

"They might."

"You're not sure?"

"It's a feeling I have. Nothing's clear, but... Be careful, okay?" The boy solemnly looked at the older pair. "Could I ask you two to look after my Big Brother? I'll help him as much as I can, but he can't do all of this alone."

"We've been doing that already," Akihiko-senpai replied. "That's not stopping."

Pharos bowed, oddly formal. "Thank you. I'm glad he has such good friends. Especially you, bright lady."

The redhead looked surprised at the appellation. "Excuse me?"

"You're bright. Even here, it's like you're giving off light."

Mitsuru-senpai's eyes narrowed, something like understanding in her expression. "I'll take that as a compliment. I'd like to know who you are, though."

"Big Brother knows who I am."

"I know that you're Pharos and you show up during the Dark Hour," Minato stated. "That's about it."

The boy stood up on the bed. "No no, you know me more than that." He stood straight up and bowed again, speaking as he did. "You know me very well, Big Brother. Because I am thou." Minato's concentration cracked for a second as the words ran through him, and Pharos flickered from sight as the Dark Hour ended.

The three looked at each other in silence. The room was bright with the moon's light, but it felt stark and austere instead of comforting this time.


	13. Volt

The room was like something out of Gundam. Polished metal surfaces, low lights and high tech, and a powerful organization's staff behind thick one-way windows. All that was missing was the claustrophobic feel of a cockpit, a giant mech obeying his commands as he fought in huge battles, and the emptiness of space all around him.

If it's missing those things, then it's probably not like Gundam at all, Ken thought. Maybe like Macross instead?

"Amada." Abe-san's gravelly voice echoed through the room via speaker. "Concentrate."

Ken straightened up and focused his thoughts, anticipating the next test and fearing it. He'd been in the Kirijo facility for nine days and everything was still new, especially this testing room with his zero-success record. Stop that, he told himself. There's no time to be afraid. "I'm sorry."

"Let's do this," the man instructed. "I want you to push yourself this time."

"How hard, sir?"

"Harder than if you were fighting real Shadows. Let me know when you're ready."

Ken took four seconds to breathe in and two to breathe out. His hands shook, even when he closed them into fists. "Okay."

"Begin."

With that word, a familiar, low-volume hum entered the room. Pressure like the bottom of a swimming pool surrounded him, and he grit his teeth and fought back. Fought for the cold, prickly radiance that had been his Persona. He dug at where Nemesis used to rest, tried to find the entity that had come to him between nightmares, both when he was sleeping and when he was awake.

This was how the Kirijo tested applicants of uncertain potential, he'd been told. Stress-testing them in a secure room that, apparently, even Akihiko-senpai couldn't destroy. Ken had first come in hopeful, but after six attempts he was becoming less and less sure of himself. Why wasn't this working? Where was Nemesis?

He closed his eyes and pushed outward, his body tensing as he clawed for some sign of his other self, some indication that he'd belonged with SEES once. That he wasn't worthless baggage. The noise of the room strobed in and out. He felt lightheaded and fever-sick. "Ne... Neme–" Pain jolted his eyes open like a slap and the name choked off in his throat. He couldn't finish saying it. Just thinking it gave him headaches now. His Persona always came with a dull pain in his muscles, but this felt way worse. This was like digging through granite with his bare fingers or igniting a match without a striker. Nemesis wasn't answering him, and worse, it didn't even feel like Nemesis was there anymore. In its place was the smell of torn drywall, slick redness on the floor, and the echoes of Mom's screams that got so loud that he couldn't hear anything else. The headache got so bad that Ken fell to his knees, about to be sick. The sound stopped and the pressure faded, leaving him scrabbling for breath.

"That's enough for today," Abe-san told him, the lights brightening and the door behind him opening. No words needed to be said – this was failure number seven.

Ken knew the drill and tried to get his bearings. The thorny sting of rejection twisted alongside the sinking feeling that he was wasting everyone's time. It wasn't just failing to bring Nemesis out, now he was scared of what would happen when that time ran out. He staggered to a stand, trying not to puke all over the floor again, and left once he could see straight.

"How did it go today?" Fuuka-san asked when he came into the waiting room.

"I'm still trying," he replied. As terrible as he felt, as he knew he looked, telling them lies felt like a waste of time. Still, he tried for a smile that felt fake even to him. Once he was in his seat across from her, Koro came over and curled up on his feet. "Hey boy."

"Koromaru-san was quite enthused by the idea of visiting you today," Aigis-san told him from where she was standing. "He seemed confident that you would succeed this time."

Even Koro was cheering for him. That made it worse.

"What's the problem?" Fuuka asked. "You seemed to have a handle on it when you came to us."

Ken knew what the problem was even if he couldn't say it. Can't say it. Won't say it. Saying it meant acknowledging it, meant looking at his life and seeing those few ragged threads disappear; even thinking of looking that deep made him flinch. Since he'd tried finding Nemesis again, he'd lost track of thirty-six hours, thinking it was night at noon and vise versa to the point of having nightmares while eating his lunch. He didn't know what happened after that, but whatever his keepers had medicated him with made getting out of bed a chore. He was trading off one crappy feeling for another, and he wasn't getting any closer to a resolution.

Resolution. Resolved. Solving the problem. He knew in his heart where the problem lie, but he didn't dare go near it. Without his Persona, the memories and feelings were as clear and sharp as broken glass. He couldn't keep them out anymore – not Mom, not Dad, and not Shinjiro-senpai. Especially not him; just the name made Ken sick.

"They'll figure it out," he stated, trying to dodge the issue while praying he'd be able to sleep tonight. He kept his hands together in his lap. No one would notice the shakes if he did that. "They're good at this stuff, right?" Be positive. Be confident. Things will be better that way. They might believe you.

Fuuka-san nodded, not looking very certain but trying to smile anyway.

"How is everyone else doing?"

Fuuka's smile struggled to stay on. Yukari-san and Junpei-san had come by to visit him before, and as much as they'd tried to keep up the mood, the conversation kept stopping. Shinjiro-senpai. Minato-san and Sakaki. Mitsuru-senpai and Akihiko-senpai. The cornerstones of their group were the least accessible, and he could see the strain they were feeling. Even Aigis seemed to be struggling to speak.

"Junpei-kun is visiting Yoshino in the hospital today," Fuuka-san replied, "and Yukari-san said she wanted to talk to her mother about something. They said they'll be by when they get a chance."

Ken knew that Yukari-san's family was hit-or-miss. Her father was a big deal in her life, but her mom was a blank space. "Is Yukari-san doing okay?"

"I'm not sure. She said she wanted to keep her promise to– Um, that is, she said that she was going to talk to her mom. It was important to her."

Tiptoeing around the subjects like they were rat traps made these visits almost hurt more than if they didn't happen. Ken wanted to talk to Akihiko-senpai and Arisato-senpai, to apologize and know that things would be okay, but they hadn't visited, hadn't talked to him. The best Ken could do was ask his keepers to pass on messages, but he hadn't gotten any responses. "That's good. Um, I'm getting better now, so I can come back soon, right?" It would be hard, going back to the dorm, but he could do it. He'd fight beside them again. Fight the Shadows, have a way to make the nightmares stop. All he had to do was bring Nemesis back, and not think of Shinjiro-senpai. Not think of him or the alleys. Or Sakaki and the gun or the blood and how– No don't think of that it's not my fault he's dead he killed her he kiLLED HER HE DIED HE–

"Ouch!" he let out, looking down at his ankle where Koro just bit him. "What was that for?"

"Koromaru-san believes that you were not in a positive state of mind," Aigis answered. "He feels that you should speak to someone if you are suffering from psychological trauma. I agree with his assessment; your biometric signs suggest that you were experiencing a state of emotional panic."

"Is that true, Ken?" Fuuka-san asked. "How bad is it getting?"

Bad. Terrible. Atrocious. Can't tell when it is sometimes, don't know what I can do should do want to do. "It's... I'm okay," he told her, smiling and tasting bile. "I'm okay." Just keep saying it. It'll come true if you say it. Don't think about it. It'll get better soon. I just have to succeed once, then they'll take me back, right? "I'm okay..."

 

* * *

 

"That's enough for today," Abe Saburo said through the microphone, ending the test. Amada's exertions ceased and he left the room, looking more downcast than usual. Abe looked over the readouts from the systems around him, not liking what he was seeing. He felt the itch for another smoke, but he'd promised his wife that four a day was his limit, and he wasn't going to scratch. He wanted to, though; testing kids like this reminded him of Kirijo Kouetsu's experiments, and that was a good reason for a nicotine escape.

"He's not getting any better," Ikeda Yasu, the assistant six years his junior, commented as he looked at the data. "If anything, it looks like he's getting worse."

"Much worse," Abe noted, turning his back to the one-way window showing the testing room. "And he's not just failing to summon a Persona now. He's not anywhere near threshold, and he's showing signs of physiological strain. Blood pressure spikes, lack of focus, sporadic appetite and periods of disconnect from what's going on around him: all signs of psychological problems. Failing a summoning is for the best right now."

Ikeda looked at the door Amada had gone through, pity in his eyes. "Do you have a recommendation?"

"On Mitsuru-san's instructions, Amada's been seeing Maeda Eiji for therapy sessions since he got here," Abe informed him. "Anything medical will have to come from his end. But as far as manifesting a Persona, I'm recommending to Takeharu-san that we shut the tests down until further notice. As Amada is right now, crossing threshold might break him completely."

"That's a bit extreme, but I can see your reasoning. His health should come first."

Abe thought back ten years to a person who wouldn't have cared about the welfare of the children in that very same testing room. A person whom the world was better off without. Some would have thought it crass to disrespect the dead, but the loss of Kirijo Kouetsu had been no loss at all.

"Still," Ikeda continued, "It's surprising to see Amada drop this much. Aragaki was important to the rest of SEES, but they aren't exhibiting the same problems. I thought that Personas blocked the horrors of fighting Shadows out of the mind, and that's why Persona-Users can fight the Shadows and still sleep at night. Even if we take Amada's age into account, isn't this drop excessive when compared to someone like Yamagishi?"

Abe clenched his fingers around the edge of his desk, still fighting the itch for that smoke. "It's not the same," he replied. Reading through Amada's files, which had been conspicuously absent from the archives until just recently, had felt like a trip into Dante's Inferno. "Aragaki accidentally killed Amada's mother and set off a cascade of bad luck for both of them. Amada's family disowned him, we covered the incident up, and Amada himself wasn't considered a likely candidate to manifest a Persona so he wasn't given any attention. Instead of grieving and getting past his losses, he turned them inward and defied our expectations, but it's not the same as the others." He looked up at the ceiling. "You know the origin of Nemesis, right? An ancient Greek deity sent to punish those who fall to hubris. It's an entity of vengeance and hatred, so Amada manifesting that entity wasn't a coincidence. Handling a Persona like that couldn't have been easy, especially for a child, and it showed. His combat records, comments from Mitsuru-san and Arisato, they all point to him not being ready to join SEES. That's probably because he was fighting against Nemesis along with everything about his mother that he hasn't dealt with. Maeda's reports can confirm this, but Amada's driving motivation up to now has probably been to kill Aragaki, and now that he's dead, Amada's performance drops. That's a causal relationship if I've ever seen one."

"You think he's still fighting with his mother's death?"

Abe looked at his associate and shrugged. "I don't see how he couldn't be. He's young, it's only been a few years, and nothing about his past suggests that he's reconciled what happened. He's been avoiding the issue all this time rather than facing it. We'll have to see what Maeda finds out, but I'll bet you a homemade dinner that Amada's going through some serious psychological problems right now."

Ikeda hesitated before answering. It was easy to figure out why – Abe's wife made some incredible meals and he wouldn't have bet one if he wasn't confident in his odds. "What sorts of problems do you think he's facing?" Ikeda asked instead.

Abe let out a breath, calling back those nightmares from Kouetsu's time. "Common problems with borderline Persona manifestations include schizophrenia despite having no prior history with it, nor the genetic markers for the condition; mental dissociation, of different intensities; depression and anxiety; stress-related health problems like accelerated damage to the heart and blood vessels; night terrors and hallucinations, both visual and auditory; violent behaviour or complete apathy; and all sorts of bodily problems if the Persona couldn't be controlled or if the user's body couldn't handle the strain, like what happened to Arisato a month ago when he fought Metis and back when he first met Sakaki. I'm impressed that Arisato survived, but it does get worse than what he went through. In Amada's case, I'd say he's suffering from mental issues like dissociation and nightmares, maybe some hallucinatory sensations if he's still trying to push Nemesis to the surface. I doubt we'll see any physical problems if we haven't already, but it's the mind that's the problem right now." Ikeda looked sick, and Abe continued. "It's not easy for them. The ones in SEES, those with a strong will to control a Persona, are lucky that they are fighting the Shadows. Those who don't make the cut don't live very long; they're better off never taking that step in the first place."

"Something about that bothers me," Ikeda professed. "Amada's combat records suggest that he wasn't ready to fight, but he seemed to have a handle on things leading up to Aragaki's death. Can someone regress as much as we've seen if they were strong enough to manifest a Persona in the first place? And if Amada wasn't strong enough to join SEES, then how on earth was he approved to be transferred to the dorm?"

The questions made Abe chuckle grimly. Ikeda hit upon the very thoughts that had been running through his head for the last few days. "I've never heard of someone being completely stable and then falling below their threshold. To my knowledge it's never happened, but that might be what we're seeing right now. Where Amada's combat reliability is concerned, that is a very good question. Either he was strong enough to be with SEES and he's truly lost his will to fight from Aragaki's death, or he was never that strong and he wasn't ready for the field operations in the first place, no matter what Arisato and Sanada put him through. Training someone with a poor foundation doesn't help no matter how much you accommodate them. To add to that, if Amada was ready for the Dark Hour, then he should have had some coping mechanisms to supplement what his Persona gave him, as a buffer against his fears. That's supposed to be the minimum requirement to fight Shadows in the first place. But he's presenting a battery of mental issues, suggesting that he didn't have the buffers the others do. Why was he there in the first place if he was so ill-suited for it?"

Ikeda gave him another wary look, the pieces starting to connect. "I feel like you're going somewhere with this. It's nowhere good, isn't it?"

"Takeharu-san sent me Amada's records," Abe told him. "They're spotty. The reports on his candidacy for SEES, his readiness for combat, and his psychological aptitude tests are either missing or done wrong. These things should have been triple-checked, but they weren't and he was approved anyway. Now we have a traumatized child on our hands and everyone's passing the buck. "

Understanding, and anger. "That's... If Amada wasn't properly tested, then he was sent to the dorm without the necessary preparation. For fighting or even for handling his Persona."

"Sent to the place where the person he hated the most was living." Abe continued, glad that Ikeda was sharp enough to keep up. "Aragaki might have joined later, but it's strange that no one thought that might be a problem. Even under the best of circumstances, someone should have said something when the pieces started falling into place. But they didn't, and now Amada breaking down seems more like a foregone conclusion than an unexpected outcome, doesn't it?"

Ikeda shook his head. "Who was responsible for those reports? It feels like too many things went wrong to be a coincidence, and you make it sound like it was intentional. Can we prove it?"

"If this all happened by accident then we're looking at an incredibly convenient clerical error, especially since no one's taking responsibility for the mistake. Pair that up with Sanada trying to save face for his friend and not saying anything, along with Mitsuru-san's ignorance of the situation and Amada's grudge, and it was a perfect storm looking for a place to happen. The timing is far too suspect to be accidental, and considering that Strega has a computer expert and we're missing reports, I wouldn't be surprised if there was foul play at work."

"Given what SEES has reported about Sakaki, manipulating Aragaki and Amada does seem like something he'd do."

Abe shrugged, unconvinced. "Maybe. I'm not sold on that idea yet. I've spoken to Maeda and he thinks that Sakaki's dangerous and powerful, but he's never interfered with our activities to that extent. Manipulating records is something Strega would do, but I don't know if Sakaki would set out to traumatize Amada and corner Aragaki if he didn't hate them already, and there's no evidence suggesting that he singled them out. Perhaps he had one of his allies do it, but I'd think that they would have done much more damage to our systems than change a few files if they could break in that easily. It would be easy to pin this on Strega, but they don't fit the bill yet."

"In that case, the alternative is that the mistakes were made internally, and if the mistakes were intentional..." Ikeda's eyes narrowed. "You think that someone inside the Kirijo Group did it."

"An insider would explain a great deal," Abe noted. "A group of traitors might make things easier, but they would also stand out. If it's one or two people, then I doubt they would have changed those files without thinking of how Aragaki's presence would affect Amada. If it was deliberate, it suggests someone who knows SEES well, from back to front with all their history, to pull this off. This person might also have connections to Strega's hacker to get past our normal procedures. So, yes, I think we need to consider that we have a traitor in our midst."

 

* * *

 

Chidori sometimes wondered if the Kirijo actually knew what they were doing. First they had abducted children and experimented on them to develop Personas, then they backed off and tried to help those very same kids after losing so many of them in a disaster of their own making. After that they trained teenagers to be fighters without telling them anything about Personas or Shadows or the Dark Hour despite being major researchers in those very topics. Now they were trying to rehabilitate her by sending her shrinks and boring her to death.

Considering all the crimes that the Group had to suspect her of, confinement to a hospital was the lightest punishment she could imagine. She slept when she wanted and ignored the staff's questions, yet they wouldn't kick her out so long as she didn't hurt anyone. They fed her and even gave her sketching materials when she asked nicely enough. Why on earth were they bothering? Did they have a plan of action in mind or had they forgotten about her again?

The only person to break up the monotony of days spent drawing and staring out the window was Iori, come by again to try and chat her up. It wasn't terrible novel of him to visit her; he'd been doing it ever since she'd been brought in. She would have preferred if he'd tried to interrogate her or pretended to be sly and get some answers about Takaya and Jin, but he didn't even try that. All he talked about were sports teams and TV shows and manga artists. Empty gossip. White noise.

Perhaps he had a different reason for visiting this time, though. The Kirijo had stepped up their efforts to get something out of her this morning, grim faces telling her that something had happened, and Iori looked conflicted and actually a bit thoughtful for a change. The look didn't suit him. "Why are you here?" she asked after he'd failed at small talk for several minutes.

He looked surprised that she spoke, as though he was expecting her to be his silent suffering soundboard. "Hm?"

"You usually come here when you think of something smart to say, or when the Kirijo want to make sure I won't kill their people. You've been trying your pick-up lines on me right from the beginning, and it seems like you think I'm some damsel you can save just by talking to her."

He blushed and looked away. Chidori snorted. Moron.

"But you're sad about something," she observed. "More than just sad. Something's bugging you, an itch under your skin, and you decided to come here. Why? I'm not giving you a shoulder to cry on."

"Everyone has to be somewhere, right?" he muttered, not meeting her eyes. "I decided to come here."

Chidori rubbed her face, cringing at his attempt to sound philosophical. "Who gave you that line? I'll kill them when I get out of here so no one else has to hear it."

He glared at her, anger and something dangerous flickering to life as he stood at full height next to her bed. "Watch it. You'll lose your good looks if you're such a bitch about everything."

Ahhh, there he was – the pissed-off teen who bit his tongue to be popular with the right people. Iori didn't let him out often enough. "I don't care about looking good for other people, and I'm a bitch no matter what. Even you have to have figured that out, so why are you here?"

"Do you have something better to do with your time? Watch TV, sleep, watch the world pass you by on the other side of the bars?"

She looked down at her sketchbook, flipping to some of her unfinished works. "Sounds preferable to your pointless talk."

He shook his head. "Fine. I had a question for you. What do you know about Shinjiro-senpai?"

Chidori raised an eyebrow, glancing up. A question with a clear, almost intelligent point. How odd, coming from him. "Why ask me? Go talk to Sanada or the Kirijo, unless you're afraid they'll chew you out for going behind their backs."

"Just answer the question," he pressed. "Those drugs he was taking, they're the same as yours. Why did he have them?"

The pieces started falling into place. The full moon had come and gone, the Kirijo suddenly grilled her, and now Iori was asking about Aragaki. Something had happened, and she felt her lips tug up at the thought of what that something might be. "Ask him yourself. Or is there a reason you can't do that?"

Iori was silent, and the way his eyes hardened and his hands clenched brought something like joy to her heart.

"You can't, can you?" she barbed. "He overdosed on his drugs, didn't he? Or did his Persona finally get the better of him? Choke him to death, may–"

Iori flashed forward and punched her pillow, his fist a scant inch from her face. "Your friend killed him!" he snapped, murder on his face. "Beat him down and shot him! Shinjiro-senpai was better than that, better than you ever will be, so fucking shut up!"

His snarl was right in front of her, and Chidori felt almost impressed. Here was the real face of the Kirijo Group's pet idiot. He floundered his way through life until something got him riled up, and then he reacted on impulse, not more thought to his actions than what he'd eat for lunch. How on earth did he work with the Kirijo girl? She was ice and laser focus; how did she put up with this bumbling monkey? How could someone so short-sighted ever manifest a Persona? "So he's dead. You know it was only a matter of time, right? If Takaya hadn't done it, the drugs would have, or he would have slipped up in a fight. Something was going to punch his ticket, sooner instead of later."

His fist trembled like it wanted to choke the life out of her. "Bullshit. That guy could fight through anything."

"Don't kid yourself. He made his choice and he knew he was on borrowed time. Thinking he was going to get out of this fight in one piece, that he'd get healed or survive, is a pipe dream. Takaya did him a mercy by giving him a good fight before he died. Better than him screwing up and getting one of you killed. Making him go through that would have been cruel."

He snorted and glared even harder. "Who the hell are you to talk about cruelty? That's exactly what you would have done if you'd had the chance."

She leaned forward a pinch. This was becoming interesting. Much more stimulating than listening to him talk about his usual pointless topics. "But I didn't. Aragaki would have been a good opponent for any of us. If he died fighting, then maybe he got what he wanted rather than his choices slowly killing him in bed. Maybe he was okay with how things turned out, though I doubt you'd think of it that way."

"What I think is that you're crazy," Iori snapped. "Worse, you don't care about living, do you? He was going to die at some point, so it's okay that he died now instead of later? Do you think the same of normal people? They'll die one day, so why not today?"

"If those normal people take drugs that will kill them much faster than if they lived a normal life, then maybe killing them fast and ending the charade is better than prolonging it. Keeping someone on life support isn't a mercy if it means torturing them."

He pulled his fist back, but the fire was still burning in his eyes. "You're pretty sick, do you know that? No normal person thinks about the best way to die like this."

She leaned back into her bed. How disappointing. "Is that the best you can do? Losing arguments and calling me names? And you've never known anyone who's terminally ill before, have you? They think of the end of their lives all the time."

"Enough about Senpai," he instructed. "Tell me something that interests you. What makes you tick? It can't just be drawing things and waiting for your Persona to kill you. Because say what you want about Shinjiro-senpai, but at least he fought instead of giving up and hiding in a bed before he died."

Chidori cracked a small smile. Now he was thinking. Of what words to use, of where to aim them. When he stopped trying to be a good guy, Iori could almost pass as competent in this little drama of theirs. "Nothing drives me. I already got what I wanted. Takaya will keep going whether I'm with him or not, and the world keeps turning even if I'm not here to see it. Having that, what else do I need?"

"It can't be that simple. Nothing about Strega is."

"Why not? Maybe you're overcomplicating things. People don't always need a strong reason to act in one way or another. Sometimes they're just doing what makes sense to them, simple or not, and acting in ways to make those ideas come true. Sometimes those ideas don't mix with polite society, but doesn't that make their reality, their sense of normal, as valid as yours?"

His answer was quick, but it lacked the same fire as before. "Killing innocent people seems like a big step from normal."

"Because your normal was different from mine. Mine involved a lot of people who deserved to die."

"Normal people who had no defense against a Persona," he noted, contempt entering his voice. "No chance to defend themselves against you and Sakaki, right? I've heard some stories about you, records from the Kirijo Group. You had an axe to grind with some normal people, so you murdered them."

She brushed his indignation aside with a flip of her hand. "Why wouldn't I? I had power, they had it coming, and them being defenseless doesn't mean they weren't bastards. If a criminal just throws the gun away and holds his hands up, is he immediately worth sparing if he's already killed people? Are abusive parents somehow less damaging if they only yell at their kids instead of beating them?" That last point seemed to hit him where it mattered, made him jerk in place and stare at her. Interesting. "Some people are garbage, and trash deserves to be burned in a dumpster. What's so hard to understand about that?"

"It's crazy, no matter what you say." He spoke with less and less passion now. It seemed the wind had gone out of his sails, leaving him adrift.

"To someone who follows the rules and laws of this society, sure. To me, you're crazy for having so much power and wasting it on trying to look cool around people who will never know what you did to help them. All you're doing is maintaining the status quo, letting those abusive parents yell at their kids because you see them as innocent. Enabling a crime, how does that make you feel?"

Iori glared at her but didn't say a word.

"That's insanity, if you ask me," she continued. "It's cowardice. You try to be the good guy, but you have all these rules telling you what you can and can't do. Is it strong to follow what society tells you, even if it's crazy? To go to school, get grades, and live the life you're supposed to based on the skewed system set by those in power when you could do so much more, how am I the crazy one?" She smirked and leaned closer. "Case and point: you want to kill me. Not actively, but under the surface, you know I'm your enemy. You know you could stop me from attacking you and your friends again if you just kill me here. Even better, you might save some other schoolgirl who gets lost in the Dark Hour." Chidori leaned her head back, offering her neck. "Do it. I won't live to see twenty-five anyway, so you'd be killing a rat compared to a human. If you don't, I'll kill you and your friends when I get out of here."

She saw the murderous glint in his eyes for only an instant before he snuffed it out.

"Go on. I recover fast, remember? Do it quick and get it over with."

"You don't mean that," he asserted, uncertainty and anger in his voice. "I won't play your game."

Chidori picked up her pencil sharpener and broke it against the bed rails, holding out the blade to show him before slicing it into her arm. She shivered in pain, in feeling something after so much nothing, and held up the four-inch cut for him, disbelieving, to see.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

"Making a point," she told him as the bleeding already began to slow down and the severed veins reconnected, muscles reattached, and the wound closed before his eyes. "If you want to spare your friends what I'll do to them, you'll have to kill me faster than Medea can heal me." She chuckled darkly. "If you need my permission to do that, or to even think on your own, then I grant it to you. Do the 'right' thing and spare whoever I kill next."

He was splotchy with fury, and she was beginning to see the seeds of real hate in his eyes.

"You can't," she pointed out, setting the blade on her bedside table, "because there are rules against you doing that. The doctors, the Kirijo, your friends, so many things are holding you back from what you want to do, what might save people in the future, and somehow following those rules makes you the good guy. You're crazy, and worse, you're pathetic."

"You think you're better for it?" he shot back, venom in his voice. "You talk like you're a hard-assed anarchist, but you break down crying whenever Minato comes by. Has breaking those rules and killing people made you any stronger? Has it given you something good? Has anything you've ever done mattered? You kill helpless girls, not asshole parents who beat their kids, so how is your way better for society? You're not even a vigilante with a higher cause to fight for: you're just a sore loser with a chip on her shoulder."

"A sore loser who had you down in a few seconds, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," he spat back. "And I'll walk out of here soon while you stay here, eating the crap they serve for food. The pathetic guy will go on fighting and making a difference while the know-it-all stays here and waits for the world to end. That's a real victory you got there. Scored some serious points in life, didn't you?"

Chidori glowered at him, pencil in her fist as she looked at his neck. "Keep talking. It just means I'll kill the others first and make you watch."

He smiled, dark and cruel. "You're not good enough to fight them. You played your ace already, so they'll paint the walls with you. You screwed up, and we'll be ready for you when you're sick of living. You and that tattooed asshole."

The way he talked about Takaya caught her attention. It wasn't enmity toward an adversary, but rage just barely held back. She knew which angle to hit him from now. "You shouldn't underestimate Takaya. Aragaki did that and look what happened."

His smile twisted into a snarl. "The next time I see him, he's dead."

How amusing. She wanted to see that fight, even if she knew it wouldn't last very long. "Do your handlers know you're ready to go off on your own for a personal vendetta? Careful; they might pull back on your leash."

"Go to hell."

She couldn't help but laugh. "Is this really what you fight for? Fleeting emotions and a brotherly feud? What got you this far? What did you fight for before Aragaki came into your life?"

He snorted, crossing his arms. "What do you care?"

"I don't," she stated, "but you've taken up lots of my time talking about things that don't matter, so I want an answer in return. To bring out a Persona and fight the Shadows, you'd need a strong reason. Strong enough to keep the Persona in check, strong enough to keep you going. You don't sound like you have one, so how did you even get here? Did SEES pity you and give you a spare they had lying around?"

"You seem to know what's going on, so you tell me. Or do you not know? All your talk like you know everything, and you can't figure that much out?"

"I can live with unsatisfied curiosity. If you're going to be here, you may as well do something useful like answer a few questions. Leave if you want; it doesn't matter."

He was quiet for a few seconds before he spoke. "My reason for fighting, huh? The thing that brought my Persona out and the thing that keeps me going?"

"That's right."

Several somethings flickered under the surface. Strong, repressed feelings, moving by fast enough that she couldn't tell what they were. "That's my business," he told her finally. "If you don't care, then it doesn't matter, and if you do care, then you can think about it while you sit here doing nothing." He turned and left the room, slamming the door on the way out.

Chidori shook her head before picking up her pencil and working on her sketch. No loss there. Barbing him and seeing his emotions had been enough entertainment to keep her happy for a good long while. He'd looked thoughtful near the end. Did he actually have a reason to fight, or was he bluffing because he didn't have an answer? The question was academic at this point, but she wondered what his reasons for fighting were. Because whatever they were, they'd fall short if he ever fought Takaya. And she wanted to be there to see Iori fail that hard.

 

* * *

 

Black wasn't Mitsuru's colour. She could wear business suits without a problem when there was some contrast, but her complexion and hair colour didn't work with all black. When he'd first joined SEES, Akihiko had pointed that out to her with as much tact as any grade-schooler possessed. The resulting argument had gotten to the point of her challenging him to a duel and him taking her up on it. It had taken Shinji's comment of "he's a boxer, you're a fencer. How're you going to fight?" to calm them down.

Years later, Akihiko could confirm that all black still didn't do anything for her. Neither did grief as he sat across from her in the repurposed part of her room that she used for an office. The way her sorrow showed was subtle, not obvious to those she didn't know, but the signs were there: the pale cast to her skin, the way she squeezed her fingers together, the pauses in her words like she was keeping her voice from shaking. He'd known that she was cracking on the inside when they'd been at the funeral, but since then he'd seen those cracks turn into fissures. She was suffering, and it hurt to see her bear it all on her own.

He couldn't claim to have a better way to handle loss, however. When he'd lost his sister, he'd run to a local street gang and fought until they put him down, leaving him with more black and blue than the ocean at night. Shinji dying had sent him to the gym until he was ready to puke and then into two all-nighters in Tartarus with Aigis as support. It was stupid, and he knew that. Even if the adrenaline and risky fights were a massive high. Even if flirting with self-destruction brought him to life. As stupid as his methods were, at least he had them. Mitsuru wasn't good at letting her emotions show – a product of being in charge of people – and she acted like doing so was a failure.

He wanted her to be able to let go of that control and cleanse her wounds instead of covering them up while they festered, so he'd already put a call in to Arisato. Privacy be damned, she'd need her boyfriend to help her, even if she didn't want to take that step herself. In the meantime, Akihiko did what he knew she'd respond to: he talked about work. "Have we gotten anywhere on what the Appriser is?"

"Not as yet," she responded, the strain sounding in her voice like an off note in a melody.

"Pharos implied that he's tied to Arisato's Personas. He apparently started showing up when Arisato moved here, but hadn't made an appearance before then. Is it possible that Pharos is a Persona? Have you ever heard of something like that?"

"I haven't. It goes against everything we know about them. If they're aspects of ourselves, then how could one have its own will? Pharos seemed autonomous instead of under Arisato's control, and Arisato hasn't brought out a Persona like that so far. If Pharos is what you suggest, then I wonder why he exists in the first place."

"It sounds like you have a theory. Let's hear it," he prompted. If she talked about work, maybe she'd be able to work through her grief until Arisato got here.

She let out a breath. "Igor suggests that there's a grander plan to all of this, but a plan suggests a planner. If my grandfather was just a means to an end, then I wonder who dictated the end we're heading toward. What is waiting at the end of these events, and what does it want? Pharos suggested that the next Shadow will be the last, but then things will get harder. Will we meet this orchestrator at that time? If so, what should we do?"

Akihiko nodded. He'd been thinking along the same lines himself, and he hadn't found any answers. "I'd like to know what the Shadows have to do with all this. They're powerful and dangerous, but why them specifically? Do you know where they came from or where your grandfather found them?"

"I don't remember. I didn't ask and I don't think he ever said, and the records from back then in the Group's archives are destroyed or missing. I don't know how he even caught them in the first place. Given how strong they are, I can't imagine him bringing them in without an incredible cost of resources, even if he had Metis and Aigis and others to help him." She let out a short breath. "When I looked into the expenses and manpower numbers, I didn't find any answers. If Igor is telling the truth, then I wonder if it was easy to capture them because they wanted to be caught, so they could do what they needed to. And there's something else. I'm wondering if there have been any new ones or if everything we've fought so far has been the same Shadows that were in the labs ten years ago. If they haven't increased in number, then what were they doing in the first place? Where does this all begin?"

Cynicism tinged Akihiko's voice. "Nothing to help us on that angle either, right?"

"Correct. It's very irritating."

"It feels like we have to go off of what Igor said. Help Arisato kill the Shadows, take on whatever comes our way, and hope that our best is good enough. On that topic, I'd love to know why Arisato's special. Hearing Shadows, multiple Personas, a kid showing up in the Dark Hour and calling him Brother. He arrives exactly when things start to get worse and he helps us when we need it, and it's in the way we most need help with. You'd think he was designed for this stuff."

"I've noticed that, and it can't be a coincidence," she commented. "But I don't know where to take that line of thinking. I can't even guess what the conditions are for him to be the way he is. Why can he do everything that you just described when we don't have any precedents? Why is he unique?"

Akihiko counted on his fingers. "If we were talking about biology, then there's three options: inborn, environmental, or circumstantial. Do any of those apply here?"

"We can rule out an environmental cause," she began. "Nothing he's done or been exposed to would have these effects that wouldn't also affect the rest of us. His childhood was normal except for the death of his family, and neither of his parents showed potential for a Persona either. His sister died before she was of age to be tested, and we had no reason to do so. Also, I'd hesitate to call his powers innate. Evolution doesn't spike this fast, and I can't think of anything that might cause him to have these powers that wouldn't also have manifested in someone else. The odds that he was born this way out of chance and his skills are uniquely suited to help us here and now, that he's the unique first case... those are astronomical."

Akihiko nodded. "When you say it like that, it is too convenient. That leaves circumstance, and he's been strange right from the beginning."

She bristled a little at his words, and Akihiko hid a smile. It was good that she could react like that and come to Arisato's defense; there was hope for them already.

"Strange in that none of the rules apply to him," Akihiko corrected. "He's like the key to a lock in all this, but only as far as the Dark Hour stuff goes. Take the Persona stuff out of the equation, and he's as normal as any of us, no extra baggage or problems to speak of."

Mitsuru looked out her window before answering. "I question that. I don't think he's as normal as you describe."

"What do you mean?"

"It's hard to describe, but there are times when he doesn't react how I'd expect him to. He's taken to SEES very well, but it sometimes it feels like he's not really feeling what's going on around him, or that he's taking it all in and adapting too well. He also has problems where his family are concerned; Elizabeth-san mentioned it when I spoke to her."

Akihiko perked up. This was new. "What did she say?"

"That he doesn't connect with his past memories the way a normal person would," she began. "That something happened when his family died that makes him distant when the subject is brought up, and I know what she means. Sometimes it's like his memories aren't lining up, while other times he seems very blasé about what should have been traumatic. It's come up when I mentioned his parents and his sister, on more than one occasion. I wonder if he's having memory problems or if something's wrong. He doesn't talk about it, but it's clear that something's off, almost like he's disconnected from whatever happened."

"I assume you mean all of this past the point of a coping mechanism."

"Yes. It feels..." She huffed, irritation apparent on her face. "I don't know how to explain it. It's like an avoidance tactic, but he's not avoiding anything when you talk to him, and he doesn't show any signs of repression or psychological instability. But there's still something off about it all. The Group observed the same thing during his assessments, but we assumed that it was part of how he handled stress given that he took so well to SEES and the Shadows. He took to everything so well that we assumed it was a windfall and a show of a strong mind, but I wonder if that's actually the case. Elizabeth-san wouldn't say anything more about it other than that there was more to it than handling bad memories."

"His parents and sister died the night the Shadows got out," Akihiko noted. "If it was bad enough then maybe he has a–" There was that word again, "–unique way of handling things."

She gave him a look, and said nothing.

"I know," he conceded in disgust. "Even if that's the case, it still raises the question of how he does it and why it's only him. Which brings us right back to where we were before." Akihiko thought about it for a moment. "But his family died on the night the Shadows got out? And that was when the Dark Hour first started?"

"That's right."

"I wonder if there's a connection there. Something about the Dark Hour and how it first started, paired up with a traumatic incident like that. We can only see the results of things as they are now, after ten years of exposure and a lot of coping, but maybe that's the special first moment we're looking for."

"It could be," she granted with a thoughtful frown. "But we don't know what that might have been, and even if we did, we can't test it. If you're suggesting that his powers came from a unique occurrence in the Dark Hour, then we're back to relying on records we don't have and circumstances we can't verify. Not without experimenting on people and trying to recreate the situation."

"Right, but conceptually it's a place to start."

"I agree, and it's perhaps the best idea we have, though it doesn't tell us where to go from here, or why him specifically. I was near the labs when the Shadows escaped, as were members of our staff who are still working for the Group and child candidates. None of us have developed along the same lines as he has. And without a clear catalyst, we can't track any of this back."

An idea came to mind, and Akihiko remembered the pulse of power he'd felt the night Shinji died. "Something happened when the Shadows got out, but is it possible that Arisato wasn't the only one affected by it? What if Sakaki was hit by it too and that's why he's as strong as he is? Could that be why he's so crazy?"

Mitsuru clenched her hands at the name. "I don't know." Then she looked over at him. "But don't think that this only goes one way."

Akihiko leaned back, eyes narrowing from how she'd taken control of the conversation. "Meaning?"

Her eyes sharpened, a glimmer of her usual self under everything else. "I appreciate your concern for my wellbeing, but I want to know how you're doing. With Shinjiro, with how things turned out. With Amada."

Neither said anything, then he wilted a little under her stare. "What do you want me to say?"

"The truth."

The hardest thing to get to, and it was even harder to say. "The truth is... I don't know. Everything Shinji said made sense back then, but neither of us thought it'd go like this. He's gone, and Amada's a mess. Sakaki gets away with murder and we're left holding the bag. How does any of this add up?"

"It doesn't," she noted immediately, "which is why I'm surprised you went along with it."

He clenched his teeth, felt the anger rising but kept it banked. She wasn't his enemy, and she was the last person in the world he wanted to alienate. "I got the third degree from Arisato already. If I'm going to hear it from you, can we skip it?"

"I wasn't going to go that far," she assured him steadily. "I just want to know if you need any help. You went to Tartarus with Aigis. Did that work? We have some time before the next Shadow; I can arrange to have someone speak with you."

"I appreciate that, and I mean it. But I don't think it'll help. Things are what they are, and I have to handle it."

"Are you handling it?"

He nodded. "I'm working on it." That wasn't a sure thing, and he knew it, but he was hoping that she knew him well enough to let him do things without any interference.

It was a few seconds before she spoke. "All right. Do it your way, but let me know if you need anything. It's not just about SEES; we don't need to lose you too."

He got what she meant, and her trust hit him where it counted. She was responsible for the team, and she was taking a risk if she didn't follow up on him when she should have. Akihiko promised himself that he wasn't going to make her look bad, if it was the last thing he did. "Thanks, Mitsuru." He checked his phone and saw the message he'd been looking for. He cut off the sensitive stuff and got out of his chair. "I'll keep digging into Arisato's past and the Dark Hour, see if anyone knows anything. I'll keep in touch, but I want to stay busy for now."

"I understand. Let me help you."

"No, you need to take a step back and get some rest."

She looked surprised, lips pursed and eyebrow raised. The gesture was normal and familiar, and took some weight off his shoulders. "Pardon me? Are you telling me what to do?"

"Yeah, I am. Someone needs to. You look like you need some time to get over Shinji. Take the time you need, but don't let it become a deadweight; he'd hate you if you did."

"I'm fine, Akihiko," she tried to say when her voice cracked.

"I doubt it, and I think you need someone else's help right now." He turned and headed out the door, feeling her confusion as he walked. When he entered the hallway, he met Arisato's expectant stare. "It's up to you now. Do what you can."

"I'll try," the younger student replied, dubious. "I've never done this before, you know."

"Your odds are better than mine. Don't let her push you away, you'll come up with something."

Arisato rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"No problem."

Akihiko heard Mitsuru shuffling around in her room, probably curious who he was talking to. It was time to leave. He turned toward the stairs, not slowing down at the inquiries and looks following him until he was around the corner. He slumped to the side, letting the wall hold him up while he rubbed his face.

It was all a mess. No, a fucking disaster was a better word for it. He hadn't spoken to Amada, and he knew he needed to, but there was so much blame going around that he didn't know what to say. He had to deal with himself first, and he had no idea where to start. He'd heard it from Mitsuru and Arisato, but even his own mind was asking him why he'd kept silent about Shinji, why he hadn't seen things ending badly.

What answer could he give? With his best friend's body attached to his mistakes, what words would work? Who could he apologize to? Who would listen? Could he talk to Amada? About what?

Akihiko hissed a breath out and straightened. He couldn't fix the problems that Shinji had left them with, but there was more going on than that. There were threads to pull and leads to follow up on, and he owed it to Mitsuru to see this stuff through to the end. He owed it to Shinji and the rest of the team, and he owed it to himself to keep fighting, no matter how much it hurt.

"One broken, bloody step at a time," he said to himself, remembering the words from his first boxing coach. He headed for the doors to the dorm, plans in hand. He had people to see and questions to ask. After that, he'd figure it out. Even if he couldn't fix things with Shinji, he could get ready for the next Shadow and look out for his people. They deserved that much.

 

* * *

 

Minato braced himself as Mitsuru-senpai came to the door. He wasn't sure what Akihiko-senpai had expected him to accomplish. The text reading She needs your help hadn't explained much, and the last time Minato had helped someone get through the death of a friend had been Yukari. He wasn't good with funerals and he'd be the first to admit it, so what was he supposed to do?

Mitsuru-senpai didn't look surprised when she saw him. If anything, she looked a bit resigned. "Akihiko asked you to come, didn't he?" she asked, sending a glare after her comrade that lacked any bite at all.

"That's right."

"He's trying to help," she told him with a tone of finality. "It's unnecessary. If you have plans today, you shouldn't miss them."

Minato looked at her closer. Their relationship had been a source of amusement for Akihiko-senpai, but it wasn't likely that he would have set this up without a reason. Mitsuru-senpai didn't look good, either. The slight trembling to her hands, the stressed look in her eyes, the unnatural tension of her stance. She reminded Minato of the broken metal shards that Dad brought home once, a case where the materials hadn't handled the strain of the bridge they'd been built into. Twisted, strained, raggedly ripped apart under immense pressure. "I wasn't doing anything that can't wait."

Her response was a dismissive wave of the hand. "Surely anything must be better than following his crazy texts."

She was dodging the issue, probably because she didn't want to let go of her control. Minato wondered if there was anyone she could do that around, anyone she could be weak with. That sounds like a boyfriend, he thought. That was why Akihiko-senpai had sent him the text, and Minato knew what had to happen. "I doubt he did this on a lark, Senpai. Can I come in?"

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Can I come in?" he repeated. "Or can you come out here?"

"Why?"

"Because you look like you need it."

"You're mistaken."

He stepped closer, not breaking eye contact as his fears fell away. He didn't need to know how someone else's boyfriend would handle this situation. He just needed to know what he'd do for her, and this was Mitsuru-senpai, the girl he'd fought beside for months. "I don't think I am, and I can't leave you alone. No good boyfriend would."

She blushed a bit, and didn't respond.

"You can decide what we talk about and what we do," he continued, "but I'm not leaving, so don't ask me to."

"Suppose I did," she posited with a weak smirk. "Suppose I closed the door right now. What would you do?"

"Stay right here, outside your door all night if I needed to. Or find a way through your window."

She took him seriously enough to turn and take note of the large window in her room, probably considering what he'd need to do to follow through on that promise. "That wouldn't be necessary."

"Thanks, but I'll decide what's necessary for my girlfriend. Being there for her when she needs it should be par for the course."

"Are you sure?"

How was he supposed to know? He was going off of what sounded smooth right now, and he couldn't let her brush him off. "Maybe not for other guys. But it is for me."

She was quiet for a moment, then stepped aside and held out a hand in welcome. "Sit wherever you like," she offered. "Can I get you anything?"

Minato looked around the converted office in the corner of what felt like a woman's parlour, the mix of feminine and practical catching his eye. Combat magazines weighed down by bottles of sword oil, an elegant mirror flanked by stands of thin armour, containers of tea bags and cups on one side of the cluttered desk, an ultramodern computer on the other. There were books on every wall, every shelf, so many that she was using books as ends to hold up more books. It wasn't what he expected of a girl's domain. He'd seen into Yukari's room the few times he'd had to retrieve her for their operations when he'd first moved to the dorm. The pink peppermint and lacy girliness she surrounded herself with felt sentient, waiting to smother him if he stepped too far into its realm. By contrast, this room felt familiar, as though Senpai's nature had seeped into her surroundings. Intelligent, classy, distinct but not intimidating. He felt like he could breathe here. "I'm fine, thanks."

She closed the door and stood by it, folding her fingers and waiting. He waited in turn, and the air became uncomfortable. What did one say? What words worked? He took the plunge with the lamest thing that came to mind, wanting to at least say something. "Are you okay?"

She looked distracted. "Am I okay?"

"About Shinjiro-senpai," Minato clarified. "About everything that happened. You were friends, so this can't be easy."

"I've had my time to grieve," she assured him distantly.

"Has it been enough?"

"It would have to be, wouldn't it? Life stops for no one."

Minato huffed out a breath. She sounded like the students who spouted off philosophical lines without ever thinking of what the words actually meant. She must be in a really bad place if she was this much on autopilot. "That's not productive, Senpai. I get that work needs to be done, but if you break down in the process, that's just adding to the problem, isn't it?"

"Do you think I'm likely to break down?"

"I think anyone would need a break after the crap we've gone through lately. If you don't take the time to stabilize, it'll stick with you and get worse. Either you'll collapse or make a mistake. Someone else could get hurt in that case."

"Are you lecturing me?"

"If I have to. The others are my responsibility too. I don't want something to happen to them, and I don't want something to happen to you." He stepped closer, gaining confidence the more they spoke. "You haven't answered the question, either. Are you okay?"

She stayed quiet and backed into herself, lacking her usual certainty and not meeting his eyes.

"Because this is a good time to not be okay. Shinjiro-senpai, everything that happened with Ken, now this stuff with the Kirijo Group and Pharos, it's more than any of us can handle on our own. That includes you, and I don't want to see you break because you're trying to be strong for us." He saw that she was shifting, and he tried another approach. "No one expects you to handle this by yourself. Not if it's going to hurt you."

She hesitated, shuffled in place like she had worms in her shoes. "If... Even if that were the case, with everything that needs to be done, there's no place for hysterics."

"Then don't be hysterical. Just do what comes naturally."

She said nothing, but he could feel her control cracking. The more she held back, the worse she got. He knew that losing control, even where no one could see her, with someone she trusted, was a show of vulnerability, of weakness, that she couldn't allow.

Minato knew she'd break into pieces before she let herself give in, so he took the decision out of her hands. He crossed the distance between them and hugged her. "It's okay if you let go. I don't mind."

She shook her head even as her hands shakingly came up around him. "No one respects a leader who falls apart," she protested. "We can't afford that."

"You lost a friend, Senpai. They'll understand. And this stays between us. No one else will know about it."

"If... if I do... what you say, then you're part of this too," she choked out, the words quivering with her hands. "You can't regret it later."

"We're in this together, Senpai. I won't regret it."

She nodded, then shakily came over to him, lowering her head. "You can't talk about this with anyone," she added, starting to crack. "If you do, I'll hunt you down."

"Not a word," he promised, tightening his hold on her.

She set her face against his shoulder, and it took a moment for him to realize she was crying. Quietly, so quiet he almost couldn't hear it, but she wept. Her trembling arms squeezed him. Her fingers clamped into his shoulders, her nails bit in. Then her resolve broke under her grief and she truly cried against him, letting everything out. He endured. Her battle-honed muscles meant he wasn't going anywhere without taking her along, and he held her as firmly as felt comfortable. She cried hard enough to gasp, and he looked past her so she could maintain the scant illusion of privacy. A flickering of something rippled in his heart, like a drop on still water. His Personas stirred, but went back to sleep. Her grief felt familiar, like he could relate to what she was going through, but... from where? He blinked the thought away and awkwardly stroked her hair in a clumsy attempt at comfort. It smelled like apples, he realized, and he let the scent run through him. She cried harder and he let her tighten her grasp on him even more. It was several minutes before he heard what sounded like a question. "Hm?"

She spoke into his shoulder, muffled but still intelligible. "Why didn't he tell me? Why did he keep it to himself? Why did he go off on his own? It's like he was a dying animal, knowing his time was up and leaving it all behind."

Minato shook his head. They all had questions for Shinjiro-senpai, and Minato had never thought they wouldn't have the chance to ask. "I don't know. Maybe his time was really coming up. Maybe that was why he came back in the first place."

"To die? We could have helped him! I wanted to help him!"

"I think he knew that. Out of anyone, he would have."

"Should I have pushed harder?" she asked, looking up, begging for an answer. "Could I have changed him? Maybe if I'd been there when he was fighting Sakaki, Shinjiro wouldn't–"

"Don't do that," Minato whispered. "This isn't your fault. Don't focus on what might have been. You'll drive yourself crazy. We did everything we could with what we had."

"It wasn't enough."

"No, it wasn't. But we still have a job to do, right?"

She hiccupped against him. "With me at the front? With secrets and lies everywhere? You're better off leading them, not me. I couldn't see something that was right in front of me, what will happen the next time something goes wrong?"

"Don't do that," Minato repeated. "You're only one person. You couldn't have known what was going on in Shinjiro-senpai's head. None of us did, and that's not your burden to bear."

"Then whose is it?"

What a question, but the answer came as soon as she asked. "All of us. In some part, we all played a part and made mistakes that made it worse." Minato dug into the memories of that night and pulled up one thing that he'd remember for the rest of his life. "Besides, I think Shinjiro-senpai knew what he was doing. He fought to keep Ken safe, and that was his choice. That's the sort of person he was, right?"

She nodded weakly.

"Then try to remember it that way. You can't control people and how things turn out, no matter what those people mean to you."

"A better leader might have picked something up. Might have stopped him from dying."

"You're not giving yourself enough credit," he pointed out softly, not letting her go. "You'll learn from this. You won't let anyone else die, and you won't let us fall apart."

"You'll need more than my effort to do it if the worst comes," she replied, sniffling with impressive dignity.

"Maybe so, but I trust you to run the show. I'm here, and so is Akihiko-senpai. We won't let this happen again."

She pulled back enough to look at him, watery eyes bloodshot. "Is that a promise you can keep? Is that a promise any of us can keep?"

Minato felt the weight of her expectations, the hopes and fears of someone who'd been through more than he could imagine. It was a daunting burden she bore, but he nodded with certainty. "I'll make it, and I'll keep it. Shinjiro-senpai dying was a setback, but we've had a lot of victories. We've pushed through some pretty bad fights and we've always won. We're not going to stop now. No matter what happens with Ken or Strega or the Shadows. Losing now... that's not in the cards for any of us."

"That's... not easy to believe, you know."

"I get that, but it's what I believe. Whatever comes up, we'll make it work, and we'll do it as a team. You don't have to do this all on your own."

She leaned back down to his shoulder, saying nothing for a while as her tears stopped and her sniffles ceased.

This was a chance to be inspirational, he knew. A perfect moment where she'd learn that she could trust him. He braced himself and went into it the best he could. "I know that's pretty lame, but I'll come up with a better speech tomorrow. How does that sound?"

"I don't think it's lame," she murmured back. "I'll take it just as it is."

Minato chuckled awkwardly. So it worked. That made things harder; what was he supposed to say now? She spared him the trouble by loosening her grasp and backing up a little. She still looked conflicted and grief-stricken, caught between ideas or words.

Minato glanced behind them and came to a decision. "Let's sit down," he offered, still holding her.

She nodded, curling up on the couch next to him and glomping onto him again. She kept her head turned toward the couch, eyes closed. "You don't mind right?"

Minato tightened his hold on her a little. "Not at all. Take what you need." Several minutes of silence passed, him providing the security and her taking it in, before his next ideas came to his lips. "We should... that is, I want to go on another date with you. Before the next full moon."

Of any reaction she could have given him, she surprised him by chuckling. "You picked an odd time to bring that up."

"Not that odd. There are some new places I want to go to with you."

She sighed, shifting around until she was comfortable. "I'd like that."

He smiled, feeling like he'd gotten another mark in the "win" column. He went through some different ideas and new places, but partway through his list she'd stopped answering. He brushed her hair aside and realized she'd fallen asleep. He was squished into a corner, and the plush couch wasn't that comfortable. But moving around too much risked waking her up, and he wasn't sure that he'd be able to get her to rest this easily if that happened. His options laid in front of him, he did what a good boyfriend should do: he endured. His waist was cramping up from how he was sitting, and the pillows he was leaning on were already becoming uncomfortable, and the arm of the couch was digging into his back, but he'd get through it for her.

He smirked at his own cheesiness. If he'd used that line on her, she'd have laughed at him for sure. This worked fine. He stroked her hair some more, setting a soft kiss on her head. "Rest well, Mitsuru," he whispered in the quiet of the room, soaking in the scent of her hair and the feeling of her warm weight against him until it lulled him to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Aigis closed the door to her room, reluctant to be in her quarters. The SEES members had chosen to spend this beautiful Saturday with their own pursuits. Fuuka-san and Yukari-san had gone to visit Ken-san, who had been under the care of the Kirijo Group for sixteen days now, while Junpei-san and Akihiko-san had taken Koromaru-san to the local park. And Minato-san and Mitsuru-san had left the dorm in the morning, their vitals suggesting a positive state of mind. Their improved mood might have been related to their subtle, shared gestures of affection, like holding hands when they were alone or smiling at each other in a way that was different from how they smiled at others. Aigis lacked the computational metrics to determine what was required for people to "become close" to each other, and Palladion had offered no further data outside of it being "a human quirk." But while she couldn't relate on a personal level – she couldn't make her circuits mimic the physiological responses that Minato-san's presence caused in Mitsuru-san's body – she understood this human affectation as being very important to social bonding and team building. Perhaps an in-depth explanation might have assisted her understanding, but even she knew that what lie between her teammates was personal. They worked to maintain a degree of secrecy about their emotional states around others, so Aigis wouldn't make their efforts turn to nothing. That wasn't what a friend would do.

She gave a human-sounding sigh as that word – friend – emerged in her cogitators. Her mission had been clear when she'd first awoken: destroy Shadows and protect the humans who fought them. She wasn't required to become personally involved with SEES outside of what required her to be part of the team. She hadn't set out to make friends and become close to the inhabitants of the dorm, and she hadn't even considered it likely that she would do so by accident given that she lacked the social programming and necessary interaction protocols to best blend in with people. But due to the efforts of Fuuka-san and Yukari-san, she'd begun experiencing what her database searches concluded were "feelings of affection" and "a sense of belonging" with her team. Koromaru-san seemed to enjoy his walks with her, insisting that she threw the ball the furthest out of the group. Junpei-san had asked her to be his sparring partner since the death of Shinjiro-san, stating that he wanted to become stronger. Even Minato-san had expressed some concern over her wellbeing today, observing that her passing up the chance to visit Ken-san was unusual for her. That his regards for her had become so mundane after he'd met her with distrust and hostility was something that made her feel... happy? Him trusting her served the purpose of team cohesion, but she liked that he cared enough about her state of mind to inquire after it. These feelings were fascinating, varied and confusing. Did humans feel this way all the time? If so, how did they function properly? Or was this more characteristic of one having friends?

Aigis walked across her room, past the arranged crates of ammunition and spare parts, the racks of firearms and the cases of high-explosive ordnance, to the work table in the corner. She took distinct enjoyment from sitting in the chair that she'd personally chosen during a shopping trip that Yukari-san had insisted upon. Set on the corner of the table – also picked out in that shopping trip – were souvenirs from the local arcade that Junpei-san frequented, some animals that Fuuka-san had put together from spare circuitry and wiring, and a series of manuals that Mitsuru-san had given her upon request: "Interacting with People as an Anti-Shadow Weapon," "Firearm Restrictions in Japanese Cities," and "Humans and Machines are Different: Procedures for Organic Maintenance and Repairs," among the book titles. The trinkets – for they were such, being unnecessary for her everyday functioning – had become welcome gifts from her comrades, valuables that she treasured in a way that defied her usual pragmatism.

Perhaps that was where her reluctance to be alone originated from. Instead of visiting Ken-san or enjoying the sunny day, she'd sequestered herself indoors, devoting her cogitators to a problem she still had no answer to. There was a sense of letting the group down by not being with them and helping where she could, and telling herself that she had work to do wasn't true enough for her to feel like she had, as Fuuka-san might say, a "clear conscience." The discomfort was a stirring near her midsection that Palladion had identified as "guilt." It hadn't started as a pleasant feeling, and it had gotten worse the longer she kept her thoughts to herself.

Much as her human side might dislike keeping things from SEES, however, she knew that it was necessary. She needed to properly process what was coming and how she was going to handle it, and that meant dealing with some sense of unease.

First, there was the matter of the Shadows. She remembered enough of what happened under Kouetsu-san's supervision to know that there had been thirteen Shadows in the Kirijo Group's laboratories before the incident that had freed them. Of those thirteen, two remained, and the next would manifest in eleven days. After this one was eliminated, only Death would remain.

That led to her second problem. She couldn't be certain how much sway Death had over Minato-san as he was now. He'd not yet expressed the symptoms of the Shadow's traits, none of the fury at the living or the uncontrollably murderous impulses that she had faced on the bridge. That Minato-san was still human after what she had done was so remarkable that she'd been tempted, more than once, to ask him how he was managing such a thing without being consumed by it. According to the Kirijo Group's profile on him, he expressed all of the psychological traits needed to manifest and control a Persona. His effective coping mechanisms and unusual sense of humour had stood out as reasons for him to join SEES, and she could see how well they served him. Even without the ability to change Personas, he was almost a perfect candidate for SEES.

That was the conundrum, however. Was she seeing the effects of Minato-san's personality as it truly was? Or was Death working into his psyche more subtly to make him better at killing Shadows? Was Death still in its old form or had it changed due to being contained in a person for so long? And when Death arose, would Minato-san be strong enough to fight it? Would he be aware of the Shadow when that time came? Could he be saved and Death destroyed? Could SEES fight him with the efficiency needed to prevail if they needed to? Aigis had seen Minato-san struggle to protect his friends, had observed him interacting with people at school and in the community. She was confident, within the ninetieth percentile, that he was a genuinely good person. Could she truly fight him, knowing that he might die or be mentally damaged in the process, for something he was not responsible for?

Was Minato-san's strength of will and good character enough to stop Death? How would he act if he knew the truth? Would he accept her if she told him about her part in Death's imprisonment? Would he understand the situation she was in right now?

If her sigh had been human-inspired, then her folding her arms on the table and resting her face into them was, where gestures were concerned, as human as it got. Her logic subroutines were chasing themselves in circles, the questions compounding the longer she thought about them. The more time she spent with the group, the more problems arose. She'd restricted herself to fighting with her firearms, for fear of revealing the upgrades Palladion had received and inviting inquiries. If that happened, then many uncomfortable questions would arise, and Mitsuru-san would have reason to suspend her combat privileges for not talking about what had happened to Metis. She couldn't ask too deeply into Minato-san's past without him wondering what inspired her curiosity. She couldn't risk getting to close to the rest of SEES in the event that she had to fight Death when it emerged. And as though that weren't enough, she had played a role in creating these problems. If she had spoken earnestly about things before, then there might have been time to address some of the issues and find some answers. Now they were too close to the next Shadow to take that risk, yet her silence hadn't helped her come to a decision. What could she do now? To whom could she speak about these problems?

Her comm went off just then, pulling her out of her introspection. She was grateful for the distraction that it granted her. "This is Aigis," she said once she opened the channel, moderating her tone to erase any hint of discomfort.

"Good morning! It's Ikutsuki," the dorm director greeted her. "Might I have a moment?"

Aigis stood up and set her chair exactly in its place. Perhaps she could speak to Ikutsuki-san about some of her concerns. "Come in. My door is open."

Ikutsuki-san entered a few seconds later, glancing around her room enough that he didn't bump into anything explosive as he walked over to her. "I'm glad you're here," he began, smiling, "though it's odd not to see you with the others. Didn't you have any plans with them today?"

She quelled the emotions that tried to manifest at his words, not prepared to reveal how she felt unless she needed to. "I have some plans of my own, places I intend to go later. I will inform someone of my departure before I leave. How can I help you?"

If he suspected her of lying, he didn't show it. "I wanted your opinion on something. It's related to the Shadows, so I thought I'd come to you."

Good. She could deal with Shadow-related work far better than she could personal problems. "If I can help you, I will."

"Excellent. I overheard Minato-kun use a term the other day, but it doesn't register in the Kirijo Group's databanks."

Aigis frowned. That was strange. Why wouldn't the Kirijo Group know about a word tied to the Shadows? "What is the term?"

"The Appriser."

Aigis felt a jolt fire through her motor cortices, the closest she could come to being shocked still. Had... she heard him right? She activated her auditory cognition protocols and replayed the conversation six times in triplicate, hearing the word over and over but not ready to accept it. "I... That word... Who said it?"

"Minato-kun," Ikutsuki-san supplied. "Mitsuru-san and Kirijo-san have also been investigating it, but I don't know if they've had any more luck than I have. If so, they haven't told me."

If Minato-san knew that word... if he understood what it meant... "Might... Do you know the context? When did he first say it?"

He nodded. "It was around the time that Junpei-kun was kidnapped by Yoshino, after the fight with the Shadow in Paulownia mall. He hasn't brought it up in conversation, so I don't know the exact context or whether he thinks it means anything. I'm not even sure where he heard it, but the Group has been searching for some relevance to it since then, in conjunction with research and information gathered before the incident ten years ago. It's an odd word and you were around back then, so I thought I'd ask."

127 different answers presented themselves in her social matrices, ranging from admissions to subversions. She couldn't process the implications fast enough, tripping over herself to understand what this development changed in her plans. Her primary cogitator created 539 reasons and outcomes for that word to be brought up now; only 4 of them were in some way positive. She wouldn't let an uncertainty push her into drastic actions, however. There was too much she didn't know, so she fell back to what was becoming familiar territory. "I admit that I haven't heard the word before. I don't recall it being used ten years ago, either. I'm afraid I can't help you."

Ikutsuki-san frowned. "That's strange. If it was tied to the Shadows, I thought you might have heard it used in Kouetsu-san's research. You're sure?"

"Yes."

He nodded. "I see. That's unfortunate, but if the databases don't have anything on it then it might be nonsense. Perhaps it's the name of one of those foreign bands he listens to," he chuckled, beginning a one-sided conversation about the baffling proclivities and taste in music of the young.

There were too many unknowns at play for her to engage in a clear course of action. If she wanted to use this information, she had to eliminate the extraneous variables. It was fortunate that Ikutsuki-san was present for some inquiries. "May I ask a question?"

"Of course."

"Minato-san's development with his Persona. How has he done since he came to the dorm?"

Ikustuki-san looked surprised at her question. "Why do you ask? If you're looking for information on his field performance, then you'd know more about him than I would."

"Allow me to clarify. I am referring to when he first moved here. His ability to manifest more than one Persona is unprecedented, and it is no exaggeration to say that SEES would be disadvantaged without him. But I am curious if his development has been without any abnormalities that might have presented themselves before I joined him. Given that his case is so exceptional, it is logical that he would have developed differently than Akihiko-san or Mitsuru-san. If there are any lingering complications, especially in light of his extensive injuries when he fought Metis–" It hurt to say those words. The remains of her sister's programming, now completely merged with her own, stung when she thought of how Metis was terminated. "–then I feel I should have contingencies in place if he should be unable to fight."

He chuckled, nodding reminiscently. "You're quite correct, and I agree that his skills have been exemplary where his Personas are concerned. He's been quite the adventure to study, I must say. First the incident when he first moved here, then being able to use different Personas and manifest them so effectively, and then his fight with Metis and the damage he did to himself, but you already know about that one. And he has so many Personas! I don't know where he gets them all, but I think that he's broken more rules than the others ever made."

"Pardon me, but what incident are you referring to? What happened when he arrived?"

"I suppose you wouldn't know about it," Ikutsuki-san noted. "Now that I think about it, only Yukari-chan, Mitsuru-san and Akihiko-kun would, and none of them have brought it up since then. I'm referring to his first use of a Persona, his awakening if you will," he clarified. "It was... very unusual. So unusual that there were concerns if he would be viable to join SEES, actually."

"He has used many Personas since I met him. Was concern raised when he exhibited more than one? "

"No, him using different Personas was seen as an asset more than a handicap," Ikutsuki-san explained. "His field tests showed that he was quite suited for what he was doing and he wasn't experiencing anything out of place for a Persona-User, so having more than one wasn't given much concern beyond its novelty. No, this Persona was different, and to my knowledge he hasn't used it since that day. We asked him about it, but it seems he doesn't recall what we mean. Before summoning it and after the Shadows were dead, he mostly remembers what happened, but that one fight is a blank for him. Perhaps that was caused by the adrenaline and the excitement of being in such a novel situation so soon after moving here. Memory blanks have happened when someone first manifests their Persona, especially if the situation is stressful enough, and he was given a clean bill of health after, so we've never thought more of it."

A unique Persona? Why had he manifested it if it was his first summoning? And why hadn't he used it since? "Perhaps he discarded the Persona because it didn't suit his needs anymore," Aigis suggested. "Was it strong?"

"Very. Yukari-chan was put out of the fight, you see, and Mitsuru-san and Akihiko-kun were too far away to help. There were quite a few Shadows attacking us, one of the large ones leading the pack. When I think back to it, this was probably on a night of the full moon, back in the beginning of April. We would have been overrun, but the Persona that Minato-kun summoned killed them all, including the large one, by itself."

Aigis's circuits went cold with dread. She didn't need Palladion to tell her what the emotion was or where it came from. "This Persona fought a Shadow normally seen on the nights of the full moon? Alone? And it won?"

"That's correct. It destroyed that Shadow and its cohorts, and still seemed to have power to spare."

To fight something so strong on its own and win... And this was in April, when Minato first moved to the island. If he was exhibiting power like that so long ago... "That's... very powerful. And he's never used that Persona since?"

"Not to my knowledge. I've asked Mitsuru-san to notify me if she sees it again, but she hasn't said anything so far. The Group feels that he summoned the Persona as a stress response given that he exhibited symptoms of extreme pain soon after the Shadow died. He was hospitalized for days afterward, and we think that with SEES helping him, he hasn't been pushed to that point since. Perhaps he won't use it again since he has his other Personas, or perhaps he can't bring it out given that he didn't summon it when he fought Metis. Maybe it was a fluke from his ability to have more than one Persona and he's moved beyond that one now, as you suggest. We don't know."

That the Persona hadn't re-emerged since then was encouraging, but that it existed at all was still a cause for concern. Aigis registered the slow twisting in her stomach, a "bad feeling" as she'd heard it called. She wouldn't act without information, however. She needed more than conjecture. "If this happened on the dorm rooftop, then I assume you have footage of it from the building's CCTV systems. Could you show that footage to me?"

Ikutsuki-san looked a bit surprised, but nodded. "If you like, certainly. It will have to be later, I'm afraid – I have quite a busy schedule this week. Speaking of which, I have a meeting that I need to leave for."

"Whenever you can accommodate me. I'd be quite interested in seeing this Persona."

"Very well. I'll make some time and let you know."

"Thank you," she murmured as he left. She couldn't go to SEES with these questions. The immediate queries they would bring up were too hazardous right now. Ikutsuki-san already believed her, so she would wait for him. Her circuits were alight with possible scenarios and even more rampant thoughts.

A Persona strong enough to kill a Shadow like that, summoned by the person who had Death sealed inside of him. Was this a coincidence or a sign? Had it been getting stronger or was it still dormant? Could Minato-san control that power as he was now?

Could she take that risk?

 

* * *

 

Ken hesitated, familiarity playing tag with trepidation along his nerves as he entered Maeda-san's office. It had been almost three weeks of failures to bring out a Persona. Ken's schedule had to accommodate private classes, the reasoning being that he was to try and maintain a level of academic achievement for some sense of normalcy. They'd helped, but the stress test Abe-san had scheduled two days ago had gone as badly as the previous seven attempts had. Now Maeda-san requested an unscheduled meeting, and Ken couldn't keep the butterflies from fluttering in spite of the comfortable surroundings.

The room was like a high-tech library, books in shelves along the wall while computer monitors were set up at the desk and near Maeda-san's chair. Everything smelled like coffee, paper and circuits. It seemed like the sort of place Fuuka-san would love to visit.

"Good morning Ken-kun," Maeda-san greeted from where he was seated. "Are you ready?"

Out of the Kirijo employees in the facility, Maeda-san was someone whom Ken was most on the fence about. On one hand, the man had a calm vibe to him, from his trimmed beard and kind eyes and voice to his suit that looked like it had been made in the 80s. He wasn't pushy or demanding, he never gave the impression that Ken was wasting his time, and his soft voice made it easy to talk about almost anything. On the other hand, Maeda-san asked the worst questions.

"Yes," Ken answered, trying and failing to find some kind of centre.

"Good," Maeda-san replied, nodding to the chair Ken usually sat in during their sessions. "Please, sit. Do you have any questions? Any concerns?"

"No, sir," Ken replied as he went to his chair.

"How are you feeling? You didn't look well last time."

Ken remembered last time. He remembered feeling pale and sick before the session was over. He remembered the nightmares the questions had given him. Worst of all, he remembered Mom, and those nightmares were enough to make him gag right now. "I'm fine, sir," he choked out.

"You don't look fine. I've heard you haven't been sleeping well."

"I'm fine enough to do this," Ken insisted. He was fine. He had to be. If he was fine, he'd get better, and once he was better, Nemesis would come back. He'd be normal with Nemesis. Then he could go back to SEES. Everything would work out. It would.

Maeda-san didn't look convinced, but he shifted in his soft, plush chair. Ken noticed that the chairs were on the hardwood of Maeda-san's office instead of the carpet, and there was a colourful bucket nearby this time. "Tell me about SEES," Maeda-san began, pen ready above his notepad once Ken was situated.

Ken blinked. That seemed like an easy question. "You know about them already, don't you?"

"Yes, but I want to hear your perspective on them. Just say whatever comes to mind."

"I hope they're doing all right," was Ken's honest reply. It wasn't hard to talk about the team. "Arisato-senpai and Mitsuru-senpai are probably handling things after... after Shinjiro-senpai died. If they keep going to Tartarus, they'll be at a disadvantage."

"Go on," Maeda-san prompted.

"Shinjiro-senpai was a strong fighter," Ken continued, the words coming easier, "so I'm sure they're having a hard time without him. He got along with Junpei-san and Akihiko-senpai... I'm sure Akihiko-senpai's still mad about everything. It's not my fault, though. It isn't. I... I didn't want to leave them alone, or go to the alleys, but I had to. I didn't have a choice. I didn't. But it's... is it my fault? It's not. Right?"

"Is what your fault?"

"Shinjiro-senpai," Ken said almost before Maeda-san was done asking. The thoughts swirled in his head, making him dizzy enough to grab the chair arms to stay still. But it was easy to talk like this. Talking made the thoughts easier to handle. "Sakaki killing him. I'm sure Akihiko-senpai hates me for it; I haven't seen him since I left the dorm. I couldn't help Shinjiro-senpai though. I... everything he did, all the nightmares, I couldn't help it if–"

"Amada, that's enough."

"–what was I supposed to do? Fight? Sakaki wasn't supposed to be there, he shouldn't have been there. I couldn't do anything about it!"

"Amada," Maeda-san stated firmly. "Stop it."

Ken had to hold the words back, almost afraid of not talking now that he was on a roll. "What?"

"Stop it. We're not talking about SEES anymore. We're done talking about them, and the subject's changed. Don't even think about them now, all right?"

As if by command, thoughts of Shinjiro-senpai dropped. "O... okay."

"Tell me about your mother," Maeda-san told him softly. "Whatever comes to mind."

Ken could barely breathe as the memories returned. The crashing in the alley. The living room wall destroyed. Her blood all over the floor, her body almost cut in half. Gasping and shaking as she died. "She's dead. Right in front of me. Maybe if I'd had Neme–" He couldn't finish the name – lightning shot through his mind. "–my Persona back then, she wouldn't be dead. I couldn't help her. Couldn't save her. Neither could Dad. I'd never heard of a Persona before. Do you think I could have saved her back then?" The anger, grief so heavy it choked the lungs. Dad's eyes, red and glassy. The knight appearing in dreams. Castor, covered in red. The demon that changed everything.

"What else?"

"Sorry?"

"About your mother," Maeda-san clarified. "What else can you tell me?"

"She... was wearing blue when she died. She always liked blue." The blue didn't stay. Blood didn't turn it purple, but dark and wet. Blue smelled like shredded wood and drywall. It looked like armour and darkness. "She wasn't wearing it at the funeral. They had a closed casket. They had to, but I could've protected her if I'd had a Persona, right? I should have protected her."

Maeda-san was quiet, scratching notes on paper before touching the console on the table next to his chair. "Is that all you want to say?"

"You asked about Mom. Did I do it wrong?"

"There is no right or wrong. I wanted to see where your mind was, that's all."

Ken didn't know what the answer was then. He wasn't even sure of what had been thoughts and what had been words. "Can I go back to SEES if I keep meeting with you?"

"Why do you want to go back? If you do, you'll have to fight Shadows, and that's dangerous."

"I can do that," Ken assured him, trying to smile. "If I get my Persona back, I can fight."

"It sounds like you want to fight. Tell me why," Maeda-san instructed.

"Because I need to. If I go back they can help me get my Persona. Then..."

"Then what?"

"Um..." Then things can be normal. Then the nightmares go away. Then I have a reason to fight and I won't be... "Personas protect us from our fear, don't they? They make it so we can fight Shadows."

"That's part of how it works, yes."

"Then I need my Persona," Ken deduced. If he had his Persona, the nightmares would go away. His past would go away. It made perfect sense. "If I go back to SEES, they'll help me get it back."

Maeda-san's eyes glittered behind his glasses. "Do you have fears that you want to be protected from?"

Mom, Dad, Shinjiro-senpai. Mom dying. Living. Alone. "I guess. But everyone's like that, right?"

Maeda-san scratched down some more notes before sighing. "That won't be happening, Amada."

Ken deflated into his chair. "What? Why?"

"Because you're nowhere near ready," Maeda-san explained. "That's clear from you saying what was on your mind. You're not handling the past at all – you're not even coping at this point. You're in no condition to fight, and I won't send an unprepared child into SEES like this. That's not in your best interests, and it's not safe for the others."

He wasn't a kid. Kids didn't lose their parents like that. They didn't fight monsters in the middle of the night. "I'm fine," Ken insisted. "I'll be fine if I can get my Persona."

"What's your Persona's name?" Maeda-san inquired.

"It's Nem–" Another jolt, too obvious to hide. "Umm, you know what it is."

"Tell me anyway."

"I... why?"

Maeda-san tapped on his notepad, seeming to be deep in thought. "As I understand it, Personas aren't just animate parts of your mind. They have an attitude and a will of their own. If you can't summon Nemesis, if you can't even say its name, then there's something that you need to fix before you can go anywhere. That you can't tells me that you haven't handled what has happened, thus you can't fight. You're not ready to go back."

Ken deflated even more, annoyed that he'd been set up. "You know about Personas?"

"The Group wouldn't have let me talk to you if I didn't," Maeda-san pointed out. "Right now you're ruminating, which means you're stuck in the past and you can't move beyond it. I didn't ask how your mother died, but that's what you talked about. I asked about SEES, but you talked about Shinjiro-san and Sakaki. Everything you've gone through is weighing you down, and you haven't dealt with any of it. With your mind like this, I won't recommend that you go back to SEES."

"But... what am I supposed to do? Can't you fix me?"

"I'll absolutely try my best to help you. But that's all I can do: try to help. You're a big part of this equation, and you have to come to terms with what happened before anything can change." Maeda-san turned toward the door as someone knocked. "Our session is over. Abe-san had something he wanted to talk to you about."

Ken shrank at the name. Abe-san came across as nice, but every time Ken failed, it felt like he was wasting the man's time. "If... if we have to."

Maeda-san welcomed Abe-san in before going back to his desk. The test operator, smelling of cigarettes, approached like business as usual and sat in one of the empty chairs.

"H-hi, Abe-san," Ken tried

"Hello Amada. Maeda-san's talked to you, right?"

"Yes sir. Did he talk to you?"

"I've seen your records up to now. If things had changed, he would have informed me, but it looks like they haven't."

The sounded final. Final enough that Ken grabbed desperately for a thread. "Um... I'm feeling my Persona better now, so I'd like to keep trying the tests."

"Amada," Maeda-san reprimanded gently from his desk. "Don't lie."

"I'm not!"

"You're in no state to be tested seriously," Abe-san told him firmly. "Your results the other day proved that. We've taken a break so we don't push you, but that hasn't helped. You also haven't gotten better in the last hour, and we won't take risks with your wellbeing now."

"But this wasn't a problem before!" Ken insisted. "I was fine and you passed me when I joined SEES the first time, didn't you?"

"We're re-examining your case," Abe-san noted. "And I have some questions for you about that, but those will come later. Here's how this works: your proficiency tests need to go through me first, and I'm not clearing you until you can manifest a Persona properly. The numbers say you're getting worse instead of better, so saying you're getting closer isn't going to change things. Maeda says you're not fit to fight right now. I agree with him. Until you work out your mental problems, you're grounded."

Ken wanted to leave. He'd take being alone in his room over the sense that he was truly broken and useless, but he was afraid that Abe-san would kick him out for good if he left now. "So... what happens now?"

Abe-san shrugged. "That's up to you. I've apprised Mitsuru-san and Kirijo-san of your situation. We can offer you the therapy to help you get back on your feet and see how well you do. If you recover, maybe you'll have a place with SEES. If you don't, then we go through other channels until we get an answer. We're keeping your family situation in mind as we consider where you end up, and we're going to do things properly this time." Abe-san let out a breath. "I've also been instructed to make you an offer. Do you want to leave SEES and your Persona and the Dark Hour behind?"

Ken wasn't sure he heard the man right. What he'd said didn't seem possible. "What? I'm... not sure I understand."

"It's a simple question: do you want to go back to being a normal person?"


	14. Touche

**Chapter 14 – Touché**

 

Ken blinked. Had he heard right? "What do you mean, become a normal person again?"

 

"It's just as I said. Takeharu-san has proposed that you be given the option to–" Abe-san glanced at Maeda-san's bookshelf for the right words, "–disconnect, let's say, from all of this. SEES, the Shadows, everything that you know isn't normal. He's asked me to give you the choice of whether you want us to try to seal away your Persona potential so you can go back to a normal life."

 

"Taking away my potential? You can do that?"

 

"We're not technically taking it away," Abe-san clarified. "We can minimize the effect the Dark Hour has on you and try to stifle any sense of having a Persona that you experience. It's a theoretical procedure – we haven't tested it on anyone yet – but it's an alternative to you trying to manifest a Persona and making your condition worse."

 

That would mean giving up Neme– his Persona. That would mean leaving everyone in SEES. Ken's mouth went dry at the thought. "L-like I said, I'm feeling it better now–"

 

Abe-san's glare cut Ken's words short. "I heard you the first time. I don't believe you. The numbers show that you aren't up to par, and we have to consider courses of action as a result of that. Mitsuru-san needs a strong team that can keep fighting, and to put it bluntly you aren't making the cut. If you can't be part of SEES, then we need to think of your future. If you want to become normal again, then we'll need to secure a way to do that." Abe-san tapped on the desk, seemingly out of habit. "Keep in mind that this is just an option. The choice is yours and we will respect it either way."

 

"Could you tell us the details of this procedure, Abe-san?" Maeda-san brought up. "You mentioned that it is experimental. What would be involved?"

 

"Nothing invasive or painful, if that's what you're wondering," Abe-san assured them. "We've analyzed those drugs that Strega uses, and there are components we can use to diminish the effects of a Persona without hurting the User. We'd work on the dosage until we got it right and our hope is that, if Amada takes them, he'll suppress his potential to the level of a normal person. He wouldn't have a Persona, he wouldn't stand out to the Shadows, and he wouldn't experience the Dark Hour anymore. If that is the avenue we take, we theorize that he'll be through the process in nine to twelve months, and he might not need to take anything after that point."

 

"Are you suggesting that the drugs would kill off his Persona?"

 

"Not really. We've compared his readings to the others and the process isn't really killing anything. If successful, the procedure would stop him from hearing a Persona or feeling the impulse to use it. Without a stressor and a motive to use it, we hope he'll live as normal a life as we can expect of him. We've considered the possibility that normal events would stress him out enough to prompt something like a Persona, especially since we have no idea where his life will go from here and we can't account for every bad thing he encounters. We're looking at training to keep that under control."

 

"Are there any other side effects? Mood swings, mental changes, adverse reactions to the drugs?"

 

Abe-san shrugged. "We don't know. All of the science behind the idea is pretty solid, and we've triple-checked those drugs so that we're not playing with a loaded gun, but we've never had someone to test them on. They wouldn't work on anyone in SEES – that includes Yoshino – and this is still very new. We would keep Amada under close observation to make sure that he's in good health, of course, and we wouldn't close his case until we were absolutely certain that he's in the clear."

 

Ken raised a hesitant hand. He could follow most of the stuff they were talking about, and the ideas were pretty intense. "Why wouldn't it work on the others?"

 

"They're too strong," Abe-san explained. "This treatment could work on you because you're not crossing threshold anymore. Your Persona isn't strong enough to resist, so it's easier to diminish. No one else in SEES has that problem, so they would probably have a bad reaction to the drugs, or no reaction at all."

 

"Are the drugs the only stipulation you are proposing?" Maeda-san inquired, sounding like he knew the answer already.

 

Abe-san exhaled, glancing at their patient. "No. If Amada goes through with this, he'll leave Port Island for good. Another branch of the Group will take him into their care and he'll start his life over. That means no contact with anyone from SEES, not now and not in the foreseeable future."

 

Ken paled. Not seeing the others? Going to a strange new place? His palms started to sweat. "Why couldn't I see them?"

 

"Because their Personas are active, and they are still fighting. Being around them could keep the Potential alive in you, and we want to stop that." Abe-san's toned went from clinical to firm. "Keep in mind that it's the Potential that makes you aware of the Dark Hour. If you stay as you are, the Shadows will see you and probably attack you. You can't defend yourself right now, and you'd be even less able to do so if you're suppressing your Persona. For this to work, and for the sake of your safety and that of those around you, you have to be completely normal. That means taking you away from anything that could spark a return of your Persona."

 

He'd be cut off from SEES. He'd never see the others again, never play with Koro or talk to Akihiko-senpai or taste Fuuka-san's cooking again. "But I'm leaving everyone behind if I do that."

 

"Correct."

 

"They're still fighting the Shadows," Ken protested.

 

Abe-san shrugged. "And they likely will until they reach the end of the fight, whenever that is."

 

"The full moon's in a week. I wouldn't be able to help them if I ran away." They might need him, might need healing if Yukari-san was hurt, might need–

 

The administrator's eyes snapped like a bear trap. "You're a wreck, mentally speaking, and you can't summon your Persona right now. You're not even close. You're not improving, so you can't help them anyway – definitely not in time for the full moon. That point is irrelevant, and if it's what you're holding onto, then stop it."

 

"That's harsh, Abe-san," Maeda-san rebuked.

 

"I agree, but that's how it is." He stared at their young charge. "You don't need to make a choice right now, Amada, but you do need to be honest with yourself and think about what you want. You're not in fighting form, and until you are you're not going back to the dorm. No one will judge you if you want to leave, but this decision affects where your life goes from here. You need to be aware of that and take it seriously, and that means dealing with unpleasant truths."

 

"They're my friends," the boy murmured. "They've given me a lot. I don't want to abandon them."

 

"That's easy to say, but those are just words unless you show results."

 

Ken grit his teeth, feeling angry, truly angry, at how the man shot each idea down. The anger felt surprisingly good – it wasn't guilt or fear and it didn't weigh him down. "How can I make them not words? How can I get my Persona back?"

 

Abe-san's expression didn't change from Ken's tone. "By fixing whatever's bothering you. That means your problems with Shinjiro-san and your mother, and anything else you have going on. They're throwing you into a tailspin right now and until you get your head in order, I doubt you'll get anywhere no matter how much you say you want to."

 

"How do I fix that stuff?"

 

"We're limited in that regard," the man admitted. "We can't read your mind and we can't solve these problems for you. You have the resources of the Group at your disposal, but until you find a way to deal with the underlying problems, we can only help so much. If Nemesis is fighting back against you, then you either need to deal with it or move forward. Make your peace with Shinjiro and your mother, if those were your strongest motivators, and find a new reason to fight."

 

The anger flickered out, trampled by the demon horseman. He was holding onto control by his fingertips, familiar despair pulling him down. "I want to help the others," Ken tried. "Isn't that a good enough reason?"

 

"Obviously not, since you're not getting any better." Abe-san's eyes narrowed. "There isn't a quick fix to this, Amada – we're talking about the very nature of your psyche, given a supernatural amount of power. That's not a burden you shoulder without consequences, so if you think you can lie your way into having a Persona, you're very wrong. The problems are coming from inside you, and until those problems are resolved, you're going to stay right where you are no matter how much you run."

 

Fixing the problem. Making things right again. How was he supposed to do that? Everything had gone wrong since Mom died. Shinjiro-senpai was dead, so how could anyone make it up to him? "I can't go back in time and change things. This is what it is, right?"

 

"Partially. We're dealing with the mind and that means a lot of this comes down to perspective. Maybe the changes you need are drastic, but maybe they're as simple as adjusting how you remember a few things so the rest clicks into place. You won't know until you try, but if you want to get better then the rest has to come from you." Abe-san paused. "Keep in mind that nothing about this is going to be simple. Your numbers are abysmal, and they wouldn't be if you just needed a few tweaks and a pep talk. Your problems are serious, so unless you take a proper run at getting better, you won't get anywhere. We know how hard it is for people to change, and we especially know how heavy the burden is that you and the rest of SEES bear. That's why Takeharu-san is making the offer to give you an out while you're young enough to make the most of the opportunity. He doesn't want to see you break something you can't repair. None of us do."

 

"Perhaps we should end this discussion for now," Maeda-san suggested. "This has been a lot for Amada to take in, I think."

 

"That's fine. I will say one last thing: If you are going to rejoin SEES, or if you are going to leave, be honest with yourself and be certain that you'll go all the way. Halfway measures aren't going to solve anything at this point, and Mitsuru-san and the others don't deserve to be hurt or killed because you _think_ you can help them. What they're doing is too important for your ego to get in the way, and I don't want them to die because of an error in judgment." He glanced over at the protesting therapist. "I know that's harsh, Maeda-san. But he needs to know what's at stake, and coddling him won't help anyone. If he's serious about getting better, then I'll help him the best I can. But if he's going to lie and make excuses, then he'll be handled as such."

 

Maeda-san's objections dried up, and his mouth was set stern but understanding. "Then what needed to be said has been said. I think he understands."

 

"Please make sure that he does. Now I want to talk about something else, Amada."

 

Ken jerked up, not sure where this turn was going to take him. "Y-yes?"

 

Abe-san tapped a silver lighter steadily, apparently thinking hard again. "It's about your preliminary tests. You should have taken a series of them before you joined SEES, when your potential was gauged. Do you remember them?"

 

"Um, yes, I think so."

 

"We're having some trouble finding those results, so please tell me everything you went through. With whom, where you did it, every detail, no matter how small you think it might be."

 

The question threw Ken for a spin. He hadn't expected someone from the Group to ask him about this stuff. Shouldn't they know their own procedures if they ran the tests? "I'm not sure if I'll be able to remember everything, sir. This is kind of out of the blue."

 

"That's fine. Let's start today with what you remember clearly, then I'd like you to think about it for the next week and write down anything that comes to mind. Even if it's questions you have or things you weren't sure about, get them to me or Maeda. It's important, so we'll listen to whatever you have to say."

 

Take notes. Make notes. Remember something not Mom. "Okay."

 

"Good. Let's begin."

 

Ken took a minute to collect his thoughts, trying to think back to when Ikutsuki-san first came to talk to him and the tests that were conducted. He gave what details he could, talked about the places he went to and the assistants Ikutsuki-san had, how the tests themselves were different from what Abe-san had been doing.

 

The two men listened silently. Maeda-san scratched notes on his paper pad while Abe-san stared at the floor, still tapping his lighter in an unbroken rhythm. Ken was certain he messed up some details and confused them, going back and forth and correcting himself two or three times, but they only asked for clarification once. The silence of the room became heavy, but Ken pushed through and brought up everything that came to mind. It felt good to be doing something more than tests for a change.

 

"It sounds like Ikutsuki was overseeing most of your tests," Abe-san noted when Ken was finished.

 

"That's right. He knew about the Shadows and Personas and he introduced me to the others. That was when he told me about SEES and what they do, that sort of thing."

 

"I mean the preliminaries. He found you and brought you up almost from scratch. That's outside his normal duties. You said he didn't do this alone, right?"

 

"There were two other people, but I didn't get their names. They just ran the tests and didn't say very much. Ikutsuki-san didn't talk to them very much either. I assume they were important, but I don't know for sure."

 

"That's unusual," Maeda-san noted.

 

"Maybe," Abe-san grit out. "Maybe not."

 

Ken looked at the two adults, not sure where the conversation had gone or what he should say.

 

Abe-san stood to his full height. "Thanks for the information. That gives me something to work with. If you remember anything else, write it down and send it to me. It's important, so try to go over every detail if you can."

 

"I will. Does this mean Ikutsuki-san is in trouble?"

 

"That's SEES business. If you plan on leaving, then you don't need to know. If you're going to rejoin them, then get to work on your problems and I'll tell you when you're clear." With that he left Maeda's office, the door closing hard behind him.

 

"That concludes our time together for today, Amada," the therapist said. "I recommend that you record what you can remember of the details Abe-san is looking for. If you need anything further, you can always come back. Do you have any questions?"

 

"Did he mean what he said? About Ikutsuki-san being a SEES problem?"

 

"Does that bother you?" The older man's eyes were comforting but calculating at the same time.

 

Ken let out a shaky breath. "It's just... never sunk in, I guess. I'd hoped I was still one of them, like this was all just a break or something."

 

"Abe-san's following something he didn't expect to come up, and it has put him in a bad mood. Don't let that part bother you. However, I can't tell you anything more on the matter. If you fix the problems with your Persona, you might be able to rejoin them, and then we'll tell you. Until then, it's private."

 

"I understand, I think."

 

"Good. Get some rest and please send us anything else you remember." Maeda-san closed his book and nodded. "Remember that our doors are always open. Until then."

 

***

 

"Ken's not getting any better," Minato observed, closing the email he'd been reading. "Weeks of help and still no progress. I didn't expect him to be this bad off."

 

"Are you concerned?" Mitsuru-senpai asked from her desk. She looked better. More vibrant, not as stressed, and she was smiling more now than she had before. It was way too early to say she had recovered from Shinjiro-senpai's death, but Minato believed she was coping well. She'd gone out with the girls yesterday, coming back loaded down with bags and tears in her eyes from some joke Yukari had told. Her smile was so beautiful that Minato didn't mind helping take the bags upstairs. Today she'd scheduled a meeting for them to catch up on business and cover any last-minute matters before the full moon came, five days away. Hopefully they could finish up soon and get outside for a while - the weather was beautiful.

 

"Considering what his numbers look like now? Yeah, I am. I'm wondering if he ever should have been allowed to fight if he was always like this, and what's worse, I wonder if the fights he did go through are making things worse for him now."

 

She nodded, a contemplative look on her face. The time since Shinjiro-senpai's death seemed to have mellowed her mood toward their young charge. "I agree. He's in the best hands the Group has to offer, but I wonder if that's enough. If we exacerbated the situation, then I wonder if even our best help is enough to bring him back."

 

Minato sighed. With everything Senpai had gone through since the last full moon, he hadn't taken the time to visit Ken at the Kirijo compound. What could he say? What words were there that would make things better? For days after the funeral, Minato heard Sakaki's mocking laughter in his ears whenever Ken's name was mentioned. It wasn't the kid's fault that the madman knew more about the situation than Minato himself did, but by the time everything in the dorm had gotten to some stage of normal, it was too close to the next full moon to risk rocking the boat. Starting today, everyone was going into combat mode and extraneous activities were being cut to the bone. Minato wondered if visiting Ken now would be enough to throw him off his game. He didn't want to think so, but he also knew better than to overestimate his own abilities. Last time he did that he'd shredded his own insides and gotten stuck eating hospital food for weeks. "I want to help him. Maybe he could use a visit from one of us."

 

"The others have visited him numerous times," she pointed out. "His numbers haven't gotten better."

 

"Then maybe he needs to get out of the house for a while. Give him a day pass and a chaperone, someone he can have fun with and get his mind off things."

 

"Can we afford that? We're getting close to the next Shadow."

 

There were plenty of objections she could have raised that would have stopped the idea in its tracks. She'd made none of them. Minato guessed that she was sympathetic to Ken's situation but was either still processing her own feelings on the matter, or she was focused on the upcoming fight. "I've thought of that, and there's one member of our group who would have the best chances of helping Ken while suffering the lowest risk of a drop in morale if he's not at 100%. Win-win situation."

 

The half-smile she gave him told him she'd guessed who he had in mind. "I approve. I'll ask Abe-san to arrange for Amada to have a day off. That might be what he needs, and even if his tests don't get better, I don't expect him to stay cooped up like that forever. He's at an age where he should be outdoors and having fun, no matter what choice he makes."

 

"Thanks, Senpai."

 

"We might have to do something about Ikutsuki," Mitsuru-senpai told him, leaning back in her chair. "As soon as next week."

 

Minato raised an eyebrow, not expecting her to change gears that fast. "In what regard? And why are we changing subjects?"

 

"We aren't. Ikutsuki could be involved with Amada's situation."

 

Minato hadn't seen this coming. The dorm director was in the background enough that it was easy to forget that he was there. If not for the terrible puns, Minato could have done it long ago. "Go on."

 

Mitsuru-senpai counted her questions on her fingers. "Why was Amada green-lit for SEES when he had a bad connection with Shinjiro and Akihiko? Why was he allowed to fight when he lacked the coping mechanisms for intense stress? He wasn't suited for field combat when he joined us, but why didn't anyone test him more before sending him over? Why don't more of the Kirijo personnel know about him like they did Takeba and Akihiko?"

 

Minato nodded. It was hard to look at the situation as it stood and not think that there had been a serious screw up somewhere along the line. "I'd assumed it was because we needed the people. More Persona Users on the team is a net benefit for us, even if one of them is a bit behind in skill. That just would have meant training him up to par, like the rest of us had to go through. It's not like Junpei was a great fighter at first, after all."

 

"That would be valid only if Iori also needed to learn to handle being around Shadows or if he needed training in adequate coping mechanisms," she countered. "He didn't, Takeba didn't, and neither did you. Fighting Shadows is what SEES does, and that carries the expectation of mental rigour. If someone was a good fighter but lacked mental fortitude, then we wouldn't accept them. So why were we given a candidate who couldn't handle even that much? Did we need numbers that badly?"

 

Minato thought his response over. "Ken's only falling apart because Shinjiro-senpai died. If that hadn't happened, then Ken might not be like this." He frowned, following his own logic. "But if Ken planned on killing himself anyway, then there's no way he'd have come out of the situation better off. He couldn't have been healthy if he was suicidal, and that takes us right back to the beginning."

 

"Correct."

 

The harder Minato thought about the situation, the more he dug down to the bone and marrow, the less things lined up. "That's a pretty serious oversight. How does Ikutsuki fall into this?"

 

She pointed at her laptop. "I've gotten reports from someone who knows Kirijo procedures about Personas inside and out. There are holes in the preliminary records. According to Amada, Father, and Abe-san, Ikutsuki was involved in the selection process and the initial testing to a disproportionate degree. They're both out of place, enough that they've warranted an internal investigation."

 

Minato paused. This was the first time the Group had really gotten involved in SEES's operations and backgrounds, and it was clear the gloves weren't staying on. "That sounds serious. It's hard to imagine that he'd do something to intentionally sabotage Ken, but if anyone could do it on the sly, it would be the paper pusher. That doesn't explain why he'd do it, though."

 

"We don't know," she admitted with a shrug. "I've thought of what his motives might be, and I can't come up with anything. Greed, spite, incompetence, outside factors, nothing sticks. Ikutsuki's greatest interests are SEES and his books, and his role has always been administrative in nature. Nothing we know about him explains why he might have orchestrated things like this."

 

"If he even did. We don't have a smoking gun, do we?"

 

"If you mean clear evidence of his actions, then no, we don't. But there are enough unanswered questions that I feel we need to do something, especially considering how much Amada has regressed. That's no mere accidental oversight, and I'm not going to forgive someone who might have knowingly traumatized a child. I'm especially not going to take chances with everyone else here."

 

Minato smiled. When Senpai wanted to get things done, she got them done yesterday. "What do you have in mind?"

 

"Removal from the dorm and its activities," she announced, eyes hard. "Beyond that is Father's purview, but perhaps Ikutsuki would be removed from the Group entirely."

 

He raised an eyebrow. She wasn't screwing around. "That's serious."

 

"I take the safety of our team seriously. I'd considered removing him earlier, but there was a concern regarding how Takeba and some of the others would interpret such an action. Now I don't think we can afford to be worried about that. Furthermore, if Pharos is correct and the next Shadow is the last one, then Ikutsuki's role will be at an end here. His information has been suspect for a while, and now I don't think we can even consider him to be reliable. We can't afford careless mistakes or unknown motives if things are going to get more challenging, so the fewer side concerns we have, the better off we are overall."

 

Minato mulled the points over, giving both sides equal consideration. "I see your point, I'm just not sure if it's the right decision. On one hand, Ikutsuki could have screwed up Ken's reports and sent him into a bad situation intentionally. That would make him directly responsible. On the other hand, there might be a valid reason for how Ken turned out, and we might need Ikutsuki's help in the future."

 

"The risk that Ikutsuki poses to us outweighs any potential benefits," she concluded. "There are other people who can do the paperwork, and I can't think of anything he offers that we can't get elsewhere."

 

"You think it's become that bad?"

 

Her nod was firm. "I admit I'm going off of the worst-case scenario. Presumptuous, maybe, but it's on my mind. If Ikutsuki approved of Amada's SEES candidacy knowing that he couldn't handle the strain of fighting Shadows, then he's responsible for the wreck Amada has become. Misleading us about the situation, throwing a child to the wolves, possibly setting Shinjiro up to be killed, that is all unforgivable. That might be the least-charitable interpretation of his actions, but if those were his intentions, then he can't be allowed to stay. And if it was an oversight, then it's on the scale that I won't allow. I expect more of my people, and if he can't handle the demands of the position, then I don't need him here."

 

Minato was silent. Senpai was scary when she was angry, and she was clearly angry right now. "So far as his motives are concerned, they seem like a stretch. But you're right that someone should have caught Ken's problems before they blew up in our faces, and Strega's still a huge unknown in spite of how long we've been looking for them. There are too many conveniences, too many unanswered questions. If you think that Ikutsuki has to go, I'll support you."

 

"You don't have any reservations?" Her tone suggested she expected to get some more pushback.

 

"There's a lot I don't know, so I can't say whether he planned this or not." _Never attribute to malice what can be explained by stupidity_ , after all. "But we might never get answers to those questions, and we can't put the team at risk just because not all of the pieces fit. We're facing the clock, so if something needs to be done, then I trust your judgment."

 

"Thank you." She looked at him speculatively before rising from her chair. "There's something I want to show you. As repayment for your help before."

 

She blindsided him, changing the subject again. He got up and followed her, now curious. "Repayment?"

 

"I feel like I owe you," she explained, a blush dusting her cheeks. "For being there for me."

 

He realized what she meant - her using him as a cry tissue and a body pillow. He shook his head, against any idea that she had to pay him back for that. "You don't owe me anything, Senpai. I helped you because I wanted to, because we're together, so there's no debt against you."

 

"Even within the parameters of our relationship, I shouldn't take things for granted," she insisted. "That's the fastest way to make mistakes and invite trouble, so I have a fitting compensation in mind."

 

"That's really not necessary, you–"

 

"Arisato." Her tone brooked no argument.

 

"Yes?"

 

"This is happening. Accept my thanks and stop arguing with me."

 

He wanted to fight her on it, wanted to insist that he needed no repayment for helping his girl. Especially since she was cute when her ire was up. But she was cuter when she got her way and this let him see more sides to her that he hadn't yet, so he smirked and conceded. "Okay, Senpai."

 

"Good." She looked satisfied as she took up her Evoker and held it out to him, light catching on the slide. "You once asked what my inscription said. Do you remember?"

 

That really came from left field, and Minato was surprised that she remembered. But he hadn't forgotten. "Yes. You said it was personal, that Ikutsuki hadn't been the one to make the engravings."

 

"That's right." She stepped forward, letting him take it.

 

He turned it over, back and forth. It felt familiar enough that his Personas rustled, priming to manifest even outside of the Dark Hour, but the grip and weight were foreign enough that they seemed to know he wasn't going to bring them out. The weapon was smaller than his, more streamlined and delicate despite how sturdy he knew it had to be. The grip and trigger showed signs of long use, speaking to how much she maintained her Evoker rather than having it replaced. And the inscription was of finer detail than any he'd seen so far. She'd mentioned before, back on the train platform after they'd killed their first big Shadow, that the letters were Greek. He hadn't known what they'd said back then, and that hadn't changed. "I can't read it. What does it say?"

 

"Are you familiar with many gospels from the Bible?"

 

"Not really." He didn't find theology very interesting. Even after having so many mythical guests emerge in his soul, he couldn't find the drive to read holy books. "My parents were always busy so we didn't go to church that often."

 

She nodded. "That's common. My mother was Christian, and she read the stories to me when I was young." Mitsuru-senpai looked fondly at a small stand on her desk, at something Minato hadn't seen before: A gold crucifix.

 

Minato knew how dear Mitsuru-senpai's memories of her mother were. He felt honoured to hear them, however much or little Senpai decided to say when the subject came up.

 

"There's a passage that I always think of whenever Father and I talk about her," she continued. "It suits her and everything I remember about her."

 

Minato could put the pieces together easily enough now. "That passage is what you had inscribed on here, I take it."

 

Senpai nodded.

 

"What does it say?"

 

"Kahee ho foce en ho skotia faheenoh, kahee ho skotia owtos oo katalambano," she replied without hesitation.

 

"I don't speak whatever that was," he admitted.

 

"It's from the gospel of John," she supplied, running a finger down one side of the slide, "chapter one, verse five: _And the light shineth in the darkness,_ " she turned the Evoker, finger down the other side, " _and the darkness comprehended it not._ Mother was like that; always bright, always alive. Even when things were difficult or when our rivals would try and slander her, she never let it bother her or get in her way. She pushed through everything life threw at her no matter how bad it got, and I couldn't have asked for a better commemoration to her."

 

A light shining in the darkness. Like how she looked on that train platform, bright against the backdrop of the Dark Hour. Like how she always looked, even if she didn't know it. The phrase was perfect for her. Minato had never met her mother, but given how Senpai handled every challenge without flinching, how she supported everyone and gave them direction, even Yukari who'd had an axe to grind with her since the beginning and Ken who'd tried to kill Shinjiro-senpai, he was certain that the phrase applied to her as well. He told her so, adding, "You couldn't have made a better choice."

 

She blushed, trying to look stern past the smile. "I'm being serious."

 

"So am I. For everything you do for us, everything you've gone through to get us this far, we owe you a lot. It can't be easy, so thanks for being our light, Senpai."

 

"Flattery," she murmured.

 

"Honesty," he assured her.

 

She sighed, sounding long-suffering even as her eyes sparkled. "What am I going to do with you?"

 

"Spend the rest of the day with me, out on the town," he offered. "That's the most practical thing to do, isn't it?"

 

"We've been doing that a lot lately," she noted, not sounding disappointed. "I think I've spent more money on outings in the last month than I ever have before."

 

"It's worth it. And the full moon's not far off, so I want to stock up."

 

Her eyes turned cautionary. "You're tempting fate, you know. If you treat the next fight like it's the last, you'll invite it to be so."

 

He tried not to think about it. He could feel the rising tension, like they were heading for the edge of a waterfall. Months of fighting had given him a sense for things around him, like being in the current of a river he couldn't get out of. Pharos's warning that things were going to get harder didn't help things. "I know, but I want to spend time with you. Being irresponsible and having fun is best done with good company, so let's go." He expected a disapproving look at the suggestion of truancy, or at least for her to look indignant that she'd be thought to play hooky.

 

She did neither, instead granting him a smile of agreement. "All right. We're done for the day, so I suppose some leisure time is in order."

 

Minato hadn't expected her to give in so easily, but he already knew where he wanted to take her. All those operations had taught him the benefits of planning contingencies. "Exactly. I've got a new place I want to take you."

 

"I don't know where you manage to find all these places," she noted with a touch of surprise, "and I've lived here for years."

 

"It's a gift."

 

"Then I'll let you exercise it." She grabbed her coat and indicated toward the door, her smile brightening her eyes. "I'm counting on you for an entertaining afternoon."

 

That almost sounded like a challenge. Minato laughed, ready to rise to it and not think of the coming battles. "Not a problem, Senpai."

 

***

 

When Ken was younger, Dad had talked about the seven sins from the Bible. Greed, gluttony, wrath, Ken had figured out how they fit into normal life fairly easily. But sloth had been one he'd never quite understood. Laziness wasn't good for someone, sure, but why did it qualify as a sin? Dad had tried explaining it – talking about apathy and a loss of ability to act or how people stopped fighting for their beliefs and just accepted a status quo they didn't believe in – but it hadn't connected with a child's mind.

 

Ken could now look back on those lessons and appreciate them a lot more. He wanted to be out of the Kirijo compound, back with SEES where he could help the others, or at least hang out with them: Junpei-san and his all-night action movies, Akihiko-senpai and his protein-heavy meals, even Yukari-san and how she used up all the hot water in the shower and then fought with Arisato-senpai about it. He'd thought the group was strange when he first moved to the dorm, but now he could appreciate how normal they were. They went out at night and fought the Shadows, faced demons from the worst corners of the human mind, but then woke up the next morning and bickered at the breakfast table about grades and girls.

 

Ken missed them. Those days had been the most ordinary he'd had in years. Even though keeping everything about Mom to himself had been hard, he missed how easily SEES took him in, how nice it was to be around people who understood what having a Persona meant. He wanted to go back, or just talk to them. But he couldn't. When he asked his keepers if he could contact the group, the response was, "It's too close to the night of the full moon. We need to make sure they aren't distracted. If you have questions or comments you want passed to them, consult Abe-san or Maeda-san."

 

That stung, and the reality began to sink in: He really wasn't part of the group anymore. They were prepping for a fight with another Shadow and he was sitting here waiting for the time to pass, waiting to hear that they'd gotten through it okay. Or waiting to hear that one of them had been hurt. Waiting either way, safe and secure, nowhere near the fight.

 

He wanted to help them. He wanted to be not useless anymore. He wanted to stop thinking that they'd be hurt without him, to stop being afraid for them when he couldn't do anything to help. They'd be fine, he told himself. They had gotten this far without him, so they could manage this time, right? Of course they could. They had Arisato-senpai and Akihiko-senpai, so they'd be fine.

 

Just like– No. Not like last time. Last time they lost someone.

 

Was it better that they got through the battle without him? That would prove they didn't need him. Was there a point to him going back in that case? Fighting was hard for him, so wouldn't he just get in the way? If he was, they'd keep him in the back, or have him around for support and nothing else. They'd pity him rather than need him.

 

He wanted them to need him. He wanted to be wanted. Maybe if the Shadow ended up stronger than they expected, they'd have a reason to take him back. If the fight was close, or if someone got hurt–

 

Ken bit into his finger, trying to stop that line of thinking. He wasn't about to wish ill on his teammates just because things were hard for him. They needed all the encouragement they could get. They were fighting for everyone. They were heroes.

 

"Could you send a message to SEES?" he asked a Kirijo employee. Lessons had been suspended for the day and he was supposed to see Abe-san soon.

 

The man in the black suit nodded stiffly. "We can, but we'll ask that they not reply until after the operation."

 

"That's fine. I just want to pass something along."

 

"Very well. What is it?"

 

Ken stopped. What could he say? He wanted to talk to Akihiko-senpai. Ken wanted to give the boxer every apology he'd written down, every condolence for Shinjiro-senpai dying. He wanted to ask how Fuuka-san and Yukari-san were doing. He wanted to cheer on Arisato-san, tell him that someone knew he was giving his all to protect the city. There was so much he wanted to say now, and he'd lost the chance to talk to them until after the fight. After that point it might not matter.

 

He'd try to put his words together for after they won. He had to believe that they would, and they'd accept his sentiments. If they didn't... no, don't think like that; don't you dare jinx them.

 

"Tell them to fight well and be careful," he told the man. "Tell them I'm cheering for them."

 

The employee nodded. "I'll make sure it gets there today."

 

"Thanks. Um, have you heard back from those calls I made before?"

 

The man shook his head grimly.

 

Ken flinched. Those calls had been to his relatives, the aunts and uncles on both sides of his family who'd been terrified of his stories about a demon horseman in the wake of his mother's death. They'd cut all ties with him, retreated from him like speaking to him would bring the demon back. He'd reached out, trying to make some sort of contact so he could settle their minds, show them that things weren't all bad. It seemed no one had returned his calls. He should have expected as much, but having it confirmed hurt a lot. "No one?"

 

"I'm sorry."

 

"That's okay, it's not your fault." Ken had nothing more to say so he made his way to the operator's office.

 

"Come in," Abe-san replied when Ken knocked.

 

Ken entered, only slightly less amazed now by the number of folders and books on every chair, desk and table in the room. The floor was clean but the leaning towers of literature would make a horrible mess if they fell. "You wanted to see me?"

 

"Yes." There was a happy panting from behind Abe-san's desk. Ken thought it sounded like a dog. Had he brought a pet to work? "Mitsuru-san has arranged for you to have today off. She wants you to go wherever you want, do what you like, and we're to supply you with a suitable allowance if you want to buy anything. We'll arrange to have any purchases picked up if you don't want to carry them back here."

 

Ken felt like his jaw was about to hit the floor. "I can leave for a while?"

 

"That's right. Anywhere you want to go, just tell us and we'll get you there. She was concerned that you were feeling closed in, staying here all the time, so she set you up with a day pass."

 

That brought a lump to his throat. His senpai hadn't visited him yet, and part of him felt they must hate him for what happened. It would have been hard to blame them if they did. But Mitsuru-senpai hadn't forgotten about him. "That's... thank you."

 

"She's the one who arranged it, but I'll pass on your gratitude. Arisato brought up the matter of giving you a chaperone for the day, someone from SEES who might cheer you up." He lifted his hand onto his desk and a bundle of white bolted across the floor, panting happily.

 

"Koro!" Ken dropped to catch his canine friend, getting licks in response before the dog rolled onto his back for a belly rub. Arisato-senpai hadn't forgotten about him either, and the lump doubled in size.

 

"They're both pulling for you," Abe-san commented. "They regret that they haven't been able to visit, but they plan on coming by when the Shadow is dealt with. From what they said, Akihiko-san's planning on coming too. Arisato asked me to pass on a message. He said you should hurry up and deal with whatever problems you're having, then get back in the saddle and come back to the dorm."

 

Ken nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Not just Arisato, but everyone was waiting for him to get better. They'd win the next fight because they didn't know how to lose, and they'd go back to normal for a while. He wanted to be there with them, and the world felt a bit less crazy now.

 

"Here's a phone for the day," Abe-san told him, setting a cell on his desk. "You won't run out of minutes, and the numbers for a driver and a Kirijo contact are in there. Call them if you want to go anywhere, if you need help, if anything comes up at all. Do you know where you want to go?"

 

"I might," Ken replied once he could talk without his voice cracking. "I have some ideas. Maybe I'll go to the park first and let Koro run for a while."

 

"Not a bad choice. Whatever you decide, be back here for dinner. If you aren't back by then, the phone has a GPS in it and we'll come find you."

 

"I understand."

 

Abe-san smiled, and the expression softened the hard lines of his face. "Then get out of here. Enjoy the day and make the most of it."

 

Ken nodded, pocketed the phone and bowed his thanks to the man before exiting the office with Koro in tow. A change of clothes and a few minutes later he was in the compound's parking lot, getting into a staffed car and heading for Paulownia Mall.

 

Ken thanked the driver when they arrived and waved him off, thinking of where he wanted to go. Koro was getting all sorts of attention from passing girls, and it gave Ken time to think his decision over. When asked where he wanted to go, one place came to mind. It wasn't somewhere he expected to want to go back to, but it dug in like a sliver under a fingernail.

 

All the advice Maeda-san and Abe-san had given rose to the surface. _"Find something to fight for. Make peace with your past."_ The best place to start would be at the beginning.

 

The decision hadn't been one lightly arrived at. Given the chance to spend the day on his own, there were a hundred places he'd rather go. But Ken knew if he wanted to get back to SEES, he needed to make some sort of headway, and spending money at the arcade or waiting for things to get better wasn't getting him anywhere. Arisato-senpai and Akihiko-senpai always led from the front; could Ken really do any less?

 

He was going back to where everything started. He was going to visit Dad.

 

The trip took twenty minutes from the mall, and it would have taken less time if Ken's feet hadn't started trembling once he'd decided on his destination. He walked down familiar sidewalks, saw familiar houses, smelled familiar scents. The closer he got to Dad's house, the more both his breathing began to trip up. Twice he stopped at crosswalks, fear holding him still. Each time, and with every step, he wondered if this was a good idea. Each time, he pushed forward. Arisato-senpai wouldn't let fear stop him. Akihiko-senpai didn't feel fear. Junpei-san laughed when he fought. Ken knew if he cowered here then he really didn't deserve to be in SEES. He'd fought Shadows and harnessed a Persona, what was one normal man?

 

The fear hounded him in spite of his resolve, and he was sweating when he reached the simple house that bore Dad's nameplate. Normal people were all around him, people who had no idea about the Dark Hour. He was here, alone except for Koro, and no one else could face this but him.

 

Ken shook his head. Fear was understandable, Mitsuru-senpai had said, but letting it stop you wasn't acceptable. A Persona-User wouldn't be stopped by this. A SEES member, doubly so. _I'm not a kid anymore. Make the move or go back and become normal._ He cleared his trembling throat and rang the doorbell. He heard movement from inside, but no one came to the door. He tried again, pressing for longer.

 

"Who is it?" Dad asked finally.

 

Ken couldn't speak. What should he say? What could he say? No one else in his family would talk to him, would this be any different? Koro made the decision for him, barking twice. Movement from inside, and the door opened.

 

Dad didn't look good. His skin hung on him like loose clothes while sunken eyes looked surprised one instant, then sharp as needles and lemon juice the next. "What do you want?"

 

"Can I come in? I want to talk to you." Who was speaking? Why was the voice so steady? Ken's fear had tripled, why wasn't it showing?

 

"I want nothing to do with you," Dad spat. "I told you, stay away from me lest the Devil find me again!"

 

Ken expected that. He braced himself, pushing forward. "Can I come in so we can talk about this? I want to discuss Mom's death."

 

Dad's eyes went wild. "Don't speak of her! She had nothing to do with your sins! You are responsible for the Devil killing her!"

 

"She didn't die because of me," Ken explained. Why couldn't Dad see? Why couldn't he listen? What had changed? "Someone else did it. A normal person, not the Devil."

 

"Lies!"

 

"It's the truth. I met him, and–"

 

Dad flinched. "You consorted with a Spawn of the Devil?! You've come for me again!?"

 

Ken would never be able to explain why what happened next happened at all. It was like time stopped, like he'd stepped back from his fear and growing confusion. Koro was tensing up while Ken himself was standing straighter, taller. Dad wasn't Dad anymore. Not the man who'd taught him scripture, taught him to read and write, pushed him to do well in school and danced with mom in the living room when they thought their son was asleep. Not the man who'd stuck up for him when he got in trouble at school, encouraged him to take on friends and grow. The man before him wasn't that person, but instead was a person living in the blackest grief, hollowed out by terror of a phantom that would never ride again. This man was rage, blind and dogmatic, unable to hear what was being said. He wasn't listening. He _couldn't_ listen, or he'd be open to tragedy again.

 

"No. Mom's death had nothing to do with you – it was an accident."

 

Had this been what Shinjiro-senpai felt like? Speaking to someone who wasn't listening, who'd made his own judgments and refused to see reason? Had this been what Ken had devolved into on that night of the full moon?

 

"You know _NOTHING_ about what happened to her! Get out!"

 

How could it have come to that? How could wanting to avenge Mom have led him to the point of wanting to kill himself afterward? To the point of running from reality so hard that not even words and reason could catch up?

 

How could Shinjiro-senpai have died protecting such a person? How did he fight so hard, suffer such wounds, and still have the strength to push forward when he knew he'd only get hatred and bile in return? _"Stay alive, kid."_

 

"I said _get out!_ " Dad screamed.

 

Everything caught up. Time imploded on Ken, disorienting him. He tried to catch himself, tried to hold onto that instant of insight while recalling the conversation. Had he said anything? What words were used? "Dad–"

 

A hard hand hit his cheek, sending him to the side. The world tilted as he fell, as he reached out on trained reflex. He caught himself on the shoe cabinet, instinctively finding his balance.

 

Growling, Koro lunged, snarling and snapping at Dad and biting into a foot when it came around for a kick.

 

"Koro!" Ken shouted through the heaviness in his cheek. "Koro, stop!"

 

Koro growled, not letting up. Dad shouted, trying to back away. Ken focused and sprang forward, catching the canine and pulling back, holding against his writhing fury and squirming legs. Koro was pinned against Ken's chest and kept growling and barking, the air trembling around him even without his Evoker collar.

 

"That's enough," Ken murmured. "Stop it, please."

 

Grudgingly, Koro silenced and the air stilled.

 

Dad tripped backward, scrambling for the phone. To call the police, Ken knew. Probably animal control, too, about a vicious, rabid dog. A grown man full of fear, blindly clinging to a wrong interpretation because it was easier than facing reality. Ken knew what would happen next. He knew that an understanding was impossible.

 

"Goodbye Dad," he whispered before letting Koro onto the ground, turning and running from the house. He ran down the sidewalk, across the street, the world passing in a blur. He didn't stop until he crashed into a man in a suit. Ken ended up on the ground, legs trembling and lungs quivering.

 

"You all right, kid?" the man asked, surprisingly not angry.

 

"I'm..." Okay? No. Not okay at all. "Sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going."

 

The man looked down the street suspiciously. "Are you in trouble? Is someone chasing you?"

 

"N-no sir. I was running with my dog and got carried away. I'm really sorry about that."

 

Koro had caught up easily and barked, putting on the act of having just raced down the street with his owner.

 

The man seemed skeptical, but he didn't push it. "If you're sure. Be careful not to hurt yourself, okay?"

 

"Yes sir. Thank you." Ken kept his face down until the man left, petting the dog and trying to straighten his thoughts. Then he looked around, trying to get his bearings, and realized where he was. A new idea came to mind, something he hadn't entertained or even considered until now – he was only a few blocks from Mom's grave.

 

It was another moment of choice, and that strange time thing happened again. He could call the Kirijo Group and go back. After the fight with Dad, he was going to have a hard enough time explaining the bruise on his cheek, never mind if the authorities followed up on him and Koro. It had been a terrible day so far and all he wanted to do was go to his room and forget he'd ever thought of going home. He could visit Mom when he wasn't so stressed, when he had a grasp on everything. It would be safer that way, and he could even bring flowers.

 

_"Mitsuru-san and the others don't deserve to be hurt or killed because you_ think _you can help them."_

No. He knew himself, and he wouldn't go later. There were too many reasons not to, too many ways he'd convince himself to avoid the graveyard. There'd be meetings to go to or classes to attend. If SEES took him back, he'd be busy moving back into the dorm and practicing so he wasn't a dead weight. No, if he was going to do it, he needed to do it while he was numb to the pain. If he was serious about getting his Persona back, then he needed to act like it. If he gave up this chance, he'd regret it and the nightmares would only get worse.

 

Ken swallowed and clenched his hands. He looked toward the cemetery, then at the Mall. Then to the cemetery. Mall. Cemetery. Mall.

 

No one would make this choice for him. Koro sat at attention, waiting for his decision.

 

Fear wasn't an option. SEES didn't need cowards. He wanted to help the others, and he knew that if he was serious about that, about not being a burden, then he needed to face this. If that meant fracturing a part of himself, it had to be worth it. He took a shaking step toward Mom, then another, and he jogged the rest of the way so he couldn't let himself stop.

 

The graveyard was quiet. No one was here on a weekday morning. Ken went up the stairs and down the paths, feeling out of place, out of place and in his street clothes. Koro followed behind, quiet and respectful. Maybe it was crazy to think of a dog as respectful of the dead, but Koro had lived at a shrine. Maybe he was more used to this than anyone thought.

 

Mom's grave stood there, off in a quiet corner. Serene, warm and welcoming like she had been in life.

 

"H-hi," Ken began, no idea what he should say. "Sorry I haven't been by to see you, it's been really crazy since–" Since you died. Since everything went to hell. The words lodged solid in his throat. "Well, just since." Silence. More silence. "I tried talking to Dad." After he disowned me. Then he hit me. Ken couldn't say those words – Mom didn't need to hear it.

 

He tried digging at what was in his heart, and found the words raw. "I found him. The guy who killed you. He wasn't a bad person, he said it was an accident–"

 

_Stay alive, kid._

 

"I wanted to kill him, but I couldn't. I thought I could use this power to avenge you, but–" But I couldn't. I couldn't, and I wanted to die. To end it. I found friends, life started getting good, and I almost threw it all away because– "I miss you," he whimpered, knees giving out. "It all happened so fast, and Dad's a mess... I'm sorr..."

 

He couldn't finish. The tears overwhelmed him. He crumpled and sobbed, sorrow overtaking him as memories flooded over. Mom's smile. Mom's cooking. Mom's kisses brushing his cheeks–

 

Ken opened his eyes. Koro was right there, licking his tears as though saying it was okay to grieve. Ken hugged the dog and wept into his fur, squeezing his friend tight and suffering in the graveyard as everything seemed hopeless. Ken cried until his stomach cramped, until he got dizzy, and it still wasn't enough.

 

The grief and pain poured out, past the point of thoughts or words, and it felt like all the time in the world wouldn't be enough to make things right. Through it all, the white dog comforted him.

 

***

 

"Yes sir, I'll take care of it," Abe told Takeharu-san, hanging the phone up with a sigh. Amada had been given a day pass, and less than two hours later the police received a report about a rabid white dog and a child vandal attacking Amada's father. It wasn't a surprise that the boy would try to visit his relatives, but Abe had assumed that he'd wait before making a move like that. A careless mistake, it seemed. Now feathers had to be smoothed out and calls had to be made. Abe hadn't told Mitsuru-san about it yet – he wanted to hear what happened from Amada's mouth, and he wasn't going to take a civilian's account over his ward's.

 

He'd been working for an hour, picking Ikutsuki's lack of records apart, when his phone rang. "Yes?"

 

"Amada's returned, sir."

 

Abe straightened in his chair. "Send him to me immediately, please."

 

"I will. He looks like he's been in a fight, though."

 

He paused. Amada wasn't known for starting fights or being violent. What had happened? "Is it serious?"

 

"He's saying it isn't."

 

That suggested he was hiding something. Protecting the other party? "I see. Is Koromaru with him?"

 

"He is."

 

"Send them both in."

 

The door opened a few minute later, admitting the pair in question. Abe immediately noticed the ugly bruise on Amada's face, then noticed the redness to his cheeks and the bloodshot eyes. Only one bruise was present, however, and he wasn't moving like he'd taken hits to the body. That sounded like an emotional dispute instead of a fight. Koromaru padded in quietly, sitting at attention like he was waiting for them to start speaking.

 

Amada said nothing as he approached, and something in his stride gave Abe pause. Since coming to the compound, the boy walked like he was looking for predators, skittish as a hare under a hawk's eyes. There was still uncertainty in him, but there was something else now. Something that hadn't been there this morning.

 

"I'd like to talk to you," Amada began, his voice ragged.

 

"I have some time. What do you need?"

 

"I wasn't telling the truth earlier," Amada began after a few shaky breaths. "Not really lies, but it wasn't everything. I've had nightmares since Mom died, and my Persona didn't help things. If anything it made them worse. I wondered why the others could fight the Shadows so well when I was scared out of my mind right from the start. I could fight, but it was never easy. Then Shinjiro-senpai–" Another rattling breath. "He died, and things got way worse. I thought that was what I wanted, but he wasn't who I expected him to be. He'd lost a lot after Mom died. Mitsuru-senpai and Akihiko-senpai, you could tell they cared about him, and he left them behind like he was doing penance. And then he died protecting me after I tried to kill him." A brittle laugh this time. "He protected me, told me to stay alive, and now I can't summon a Persona. I'm useless to SEES. That's a pretty bad joke, huh?"

 

"Was that why you visited your father?"

 

He looked toward the wall, eyes not quite focused. "I don't know. I'm still putting it all together. There's a lot I'm trying to figure out, and my head's a mess. I'm not sleeping at night, sometimes I feel like I'm dreaming when I'm awake, sometimes I lose track of what I was doing. It's like I'm going crazy."

 

Abe got the feeling Amada wasn't looking for a consolation, so he set out to listen for now. "That's common for someone in your situation."

 

Another long silence. Then Amada looked Abe in the eye. "Do you think I can get better? You and Maeda-san say it's possible, but do you really think I can do it?"

 

It was clear he wasn't looking for platitudes or half-truths this time, so Abe wouldn't give him such. "You had the force of will to manifest a Persona once. Whether that was because you wanted to help the others or because you hated Aragaki that much, you've hit that point before. If you find the will to do it, I think you can get there again."

 

Amada nodded, his eyes bleeding raw emotions like ripped stitches. There was something else there though. Something beginning to take shape that hadn't been there in any of the meetings up to now. "I'm a mess," he said bluntly. "I wonder if I should even be part of SEES again. Being around Akihiko-senpai and Arisato-senpai, it's like I'm running in a division way higher than I should ever be part of, so I really don't know if I can get there again." He let out a rattling breath. "But I want to go back to the dorm. I want to help them. I want to fight beside them again, and I know I can't run away from what happened anymore. Between you and Maeda-san, can you help me? Please tell me what I should do to get my Persona back."

 

As he'd been speaking, that intangible something became quite clear. It brought a smile to Abe's lips when he realized what it was: Grit. Determination. It was nascent, pieces of fractured iron instead of the steel he saw in the others, but it was more than had been there so far. It was a hopeful, truthful, honest-to-god start. Would he get there, with eyes like that? "There are countless things that can go wrong or not work, and we're far more likely to have false starts and make mistakes before we get to the right answer, if there even is one. The most we can do is try, and that means things will be harder than what you've gone through so far. Are you ready to handle what that entails?"

 

"Yes, I am." It was clear he meant it.

 

"Then I'll talk to Maeda and we'll get you started today."

 

Amada nodded, the strong look persisting even as he smiled. "Thank you. This means a lot to me."

 

It was foolish to get one's hopes up. Years of tests and experiments had taught Abe as much, especially when it came to people. People got bored, quit halfway through, or cracked when things got hard. They were flawed and they could fall to unimaginable lows because they were too weak to handle what life threw at them. And more than anything, people simply failed to get what they were aiming at, But seeing that look, Abe felt like he had when his son had told him, "Dad, I'm going to be first on the swim team this year." Never a doubt in his mind, never flinching from the hard work it took to get there, and putting so much of himself into the sport that it was to no one's surprise when he won the gold.

 

Foolish and sentimental, maybe. Completely unscientific and driven by fluctuating emotions. But that was why these kids could do what the adults couldn't. Abe grinned and in spite of everything going wrong at the moment, with Ikutsuki and SEES and the next Shadow about to drop, he felt a rush of hope. Maybe there was a chance this would work out. "Any time, Amada. Let's make this work."

 

***

 

"Thank you for finding the time to meet with me," Aigis told him. "I suspect you are busy this close to the full moon."

 

Ikutsuki-san chuckled. He looked quite tired. "I hope that the late nights will come to an end soon. I'm not as young as I used to be. But it's all right – I'm sorry I couldn't get back to you sooner."

 

SEES would fight the next Shadow the day after tomorrow, and the dorm was tingling with an anxious energy that even Aigis could pick up on. Some of her comrades had become insular and distant, focusing on their own problems and minimizing their interactions with the others. For example, Junpei-san had started practicing on his own and Fuuka-san was working on her electronic projects in her room. Mitsuru-san and Akihiko-san spoke about combat plans and tried to predict where the Shadow would appear next, but their discussions seemed more habitual than heartfelt. Aigis would have spent her day going through combat scenarios, running software upgrades, cleaning her weapons and recharging in her room if Ikutsuki-san hadn't told her he could deliver on the promised footage of the Shadow that had attacked in April.

 

"It is all right," she replied, following him to the command room.

 

The director logged into the computers and brought up the video records, adjusting the volume before he brought up April's logs. "Arisato's Persona and the Shadow were quite loud," he explained. "The fight was a terror even without all the noise."

 

"It bothered you?"

 

"Of course. I've become used to the Shadows and how you all fight them, but having one attack the dorm and try to break in shaved a decade off my life. This was also the first of the large ones that we ever encountered."

 

He was only human. It made sense that he'd be afraid of the Shadows and what they could do. He'd probably seen a great deal during years of experiencing the Dark Hour, but these battles were unlike anything experienced in recent memory.

 

"Here it is," he noted, showing her how to operate the video controls before stepping back. "Watch as much as you like. If you have any questions, I'll be in my office. More work, you understand."

 

"Of course. Thank you again."

 

Ikutsuki-san left quietly. Aigis readjusted the volume to a level where she could pick everything up, tuning her visual and auditory receivers to pick up every detail for recording and analysis, and pressed Play. A flicker of hope ran through her circuits. Hope that she would see a fight without any deeper ramifications. Hope that her fears were wrong.

 

The video footage began, showing Minato-san and Yukari-san fleeing to the dorm roof at Mitsuru-san's instructions. They looked younger, she noted. Softer, untested, not the skilled Shadow executioners she worked with now. They'd grown considerably since this recording.

 

The footage cut to the roof where Yukari-san attempted to summon her Persona, but hesitation stopped her. Hesitation due to fear, Aigis's sensors suggested. An odd occurrence given how capable Yukari-san was now – she must have been truly new at this point. The Shadow attacked and sent her to the ground. Fear apparently turned to panic. She froze.

 

Minato-san picked up the Evoker, and in spite of the Shadow's furious advance he seemed calm. Her sensors didn't suggest any physiological stress in spite of how novel the experience must have been for him. Aigis paused the recording, now curious. Minato-san rarely showed emotional reactions when they fought the Shadows, and her assessments had suggested that his combat abilities were proof of his coping mechanisms and a strong connection with his Persona. This would mean he didn't experience fear and feel pain the way a normal person, or even a normal Persona User, would. But he was exhibiting the same traits before his powers manifested, before he'd gone through the Kirijo Group's training regimen and before Akihiko-san had taken them under his tutelage. Why was a normal person, Potential notwithstanding, so able to cope with what he was seeing? Was this a sign of Death, or was he in shock?

 

Aigis pressed Play again, tuning all of her senses onto the footage. Minato-san summoned his first Persona, and it was... normal. A being carrying a lyre, likely from Greek mythology. Her assessments suggested that its power was above average, perhaps enough to fight off the Shadow until the others arrived.

 

Aigis sighed, a foreign trembling running through her circuits that she identified as relief. It was as normal as a Persona could be, and it was one she hadn't seen him use. The matter had been novel, but not exceptional. She'd been worried over noth–

 

Minato-san clutched his head in pain. The Persona cried out, writhing in mid-air. Bodies doubled over, the Persona contorted, then a fist punched out from inside of it. A mailed fist, opening like the claws of a bird of prey. An arm emerged, then a head and a body. A sword flashed, cutting the host apart as the new figure revealed itself.

 

This Persona drew back and _screamed_ so loud that it filled the room. Aigis stepped back on reflex. Her eyes were wide as her visual cortices warred with her disbelief and fear, the image stuck on her visual readout even as the footage continued. There was no doubt of what she was seeing.

 

It wasn't fully formed, its shape incomplete like a high-resolution image flecked with blocky static. But the helmet, the stance, the burning eyes. The voice that tore through the Dark Hour like a war cry. The Persona rushed into the Shadows with unbridled savagery. No grace or finesse, no restraint or style. This was the avatar of Death, an entity that hated life and sought to end it as fiercely and violently as it could:

 

Thanatos.

 

The Persona moved faster, swung harder, cut deeper. It ripped the masked Shadow apart one arm at a time before separating its head from its body with a sickening tear. It roared its victory into the night, black blood spattering its armour. It turned toward where Minato-san stood.

 

Aigis froze. Would the Persona attack its User next? Death was indiscriminate, and it wouldn't have thought twice about killing its host. The camera feed cut to Minato-san.

 

He was smiling. _Grinning._ He and the Persona looked the exact same in that moment, eyes alight with horrifying power. She could almost see the currents of the Dark Hour shifting around him, twisting in synchrony with his power. Then Thanatos flickered and the original Greek Persona hovered in its place. Minato-san fell to the ground, seemingly unconscious, and the Persona was gone. The footage ended there.

 

Aigis fell back into a nearby chair, not hearing the damaged squeal her weight caused. More possibilities than she could immediately count raced through her cogitators. She stared at the ceiling, letting her runtimes process everything.

 

First, Ikutsuki-san had said that Minato-san hadn't used Thanatos since this one time. That suggested that he'd brought it out as a stress response, something that his companions and his growing skills had mitigated since April. Was he even aware that he'd brought Thanatos out in the first place? What had the reactions of SEES been? Did they know the significance of the Persona, or had they assumed it was a unique circumstance?

 

She shook her head, knowing the answer. There was no way they could guess at Thanatos's significance – she hadn't told anyone, and only someone who'd been on the bridge ten years ago would know what to look for. In all likelihood, SEES assumed it was a spontaneous mutation or a random event caused by unique circumstances and hadn't investigated since there was no reason to.

 

Ikutsuki-san said that Minato-san couldn't remember the event. Did he remember anything? Feelings, sensation, urges that he couldn't explain? What about Yukari-san? What had she felt when Thanatos emerged? And had Mitsuru-san and Akihiko-san arrived to see it? The sensible next step would be to ask them and investigate further, but there was no way to do so without arousing suspicion, and everyone was focused on the next Shadow. Upsetting the team dynamic now would risk breaking their concentration, and that could cause needless injuries.

 

She couldn't conduct an investigation without incriminating herself. Worse, even if she confessed her actions and suspicions to Minato-san and Mitsuru-san, she'd not only disrupt the team's focus, but she'd also be guilty of keeping important secrets to herself. That had been expressly forbidden after Ken-san's departure to the Kirijo Group's training facility. If they prevented her from fighting in the next battle, their chances of success would drop, so the ideal solution would be to wait until after the fight to tell them.

 

Flickers in her integrated code fired off, coalescing into a familiar audio message that accompanied a heavy sensation of guilt. _"Why, Sister?"_

 

But that led her to the biggest problem of all: Could she trust Minato-san? What was Death's state now? Thanatos had emerged, however briefly, nearly seven months ago. Had it been in dormancy up to then? Had it remained there since? What effect had Minato-san's battles had on it?

 

Aigis leaned forward, horror spreading like a virus. Worse yet, what effect did killing the other Shadows have on Death? Had Minato-san been unwittingly feeding the thing inside him all this time, creating a threat he had no idea was there?

 

_"Why, Sister?"_

 

What could SEES do about this problem? Their task was to destroy the Shadows and stop the spread of Apathy Syndrome, but had they been contributing to the problem all along? It had been Kirijo Takeharu who had told them about the threat the Shadows posed, but was that the correct information? In the event that Minato-san became a threat, could they fight him? Could even they defeat him, in terms of skill or in drive, when he was one of their comrades?

 

What was Minato-san going through now? Was he feeling Death's influence? Would his will be strong enough to stop Thanatos? He'd been rendered unconscious the first time, was he strong enough to fight it off now? What did successfully suppressing Death look like? Could the Kirijo Group help restrain him? Unlikely. They hadn't been able to stop the Shadows through conventional methods up to now. What would be left of Minato-san if Death took him over? Would it even do so, or would it lie dormant in him forever? If it did, would Aigis be Minato-san's attendant for the rest of his life? Would that mean that Metis had been terminated for nothing?

 

_"Why, Sister?"_

 

Could she take the risk? Was one life worth the uncertainty of her situation, of waiting to see if Death arose when she wasn't around to watch over him? What if it broke out even if she had Minato-san under supervision? Could she risk him becoming so strong that she wouldn't be able to defeat him? Would Death command even greater power through Minato-san's abilities to change Personas?

 

_"Why, Sister?"_

 

Was staying with SEES worth doing nothing? Was she prepared to face censure if it meant saving them? Even if speaking was an option, what if they banished her and stopped her from observing him further? If she had to carry out her duties, could she let friendship keep her from operating at optimum efficiency?

 

_"Why, Sister?"_

 

She knew the answer already: She couldn't. If she had to act, then she would act. If she had to fight Death, she would do so with extreme prejudice. And if that earned her the ire of her comrades, if they never forgave her, then she would bear that as a consequence of doing what she had to. Her concern was that they lived to hate her, not whether they might hate her in the first place. Palladion stirred as she rose from the chair. She reversed the footage, staring at Thanatos, embedding its movements into her memory banks for combat analysis. The cameras hadn't been equipped to analyze a Persona so she had no way of knowing what its reflexes were like or how strong it was. But every little bit helped, and she had her memories to serve as reference.

 

Had she been wrong to seal Death ten years ago? Had a decade of peace been worth the pain now? Had she accomplished anything of worth if her efforts came to failure now?

 

_"Why, Sister?"_

 

Her eyes hardened. No. She hadn't been wrong back then, and she wasn't wrong now. She hadn't failed back then. She wouldn't fail now. She'd see what the next battle brought and react accordingly, no matter what that meant. She would need to put together plans and contingencies, and that meant getting information. The longer she left it, the less time she would have to prepare. She shut off the recording and left the room to speak to the one person she could without arousing suspicion.

 

\---

 

Ikutsuki closed down his laptop and leaned back in his chair, a faint smile on his lips. The game was almost up. He'd heard Mitsuru talking about removing him from his position, suspicions rising about Ken's missing reports, and the need for a dorm director diminishing now that SEES had come this far against the Shadows. His role here was coming to an end in stellar fashion, and it seemed his activities had caught some attention.

 

The Group had assigned someone to investigate the discrepancies in his work, and the thought brought a chuckle to his throat. Abe Saburo, a holdover from Kouetsu-sama's days. Out of anyone at the Group to pick up on the missing pieces, Abe both would and wouldn't have been on Ikutsuki's list. On one hand, the man was fiercely loyal and frighteningly competent, wasting his insight and skills helping keep the Group afloat, and his knack for putting pieces together and finding the information he sought out was beyond impressive; he was the Group's personal bloodhound. On the other hand, Ikutsuki couldn't help remembering Abe as he used to be: A skittish, nervous wreck of a man walking the tightrope between nicotine-fuelled neuroticism and a complete mental breakdown. He'd been a grey shade of who he was now, and it was remarkable that he'd been able to turn his life around and command enough respect to spearhead the investigation.

 

If it had been anyone else, the search for the missing data and Ken's reports would take around three to four weeks. With Abe at the helm, the longest it would take would be seven or eight days.

 

Ikutsuki smirked. Even if he hadn't used Shirato's countermeasures and secured all the important data against any sort of intrusion, one week was still four days more than he needed. Everything was coming to a close, and SEES's fights had gone in directions that far exceeded his expectations. The best plans, after all, were the ones that ran themselves rather than requiring constant supervision and a steadying hand, and Ken's little drama with Shinjiro had been _delicious_ to watch. A suggestion here, a blind eye there, and the players all acted out their roles perfectly. The funeral had been exquisite, and hearing the group pass judgment on the boy, facing the fragility of their understanding of his circumstances, was better than anything Ikutsuki could have orchestrated. Mitsuru not knowing the truth, Akihiko not saying anything, Sakaki pulling it all together, how could it be anything but the perfect production?

 

That was to say nothing of Minato's rivalry with Aigis. Ikutsuki had no idea where that had come from, but the way the group split on its loyalties, if only for a while, was a source of endless entertainment. And now, even after mending their differences, Aigis was inquiring about Minato's past and the fight back in April. Mitsuru hadn't asked about it, no one else had mentioned any interest in the matter, so the machine was poking around on her own. Her curiosity was unexpected and entirely exploitable.

 

He looked out the window, anticipating the waxing moon only a few hours away. Soon, _very_ soon, SEES would see the truth of their efforts and all that Kouetsu-sama aspired for would come to pass. Vindicating the man's vision of the future would be the height of perfection, the truth in the face of those fed lies this entire time. Ikutsuki wondered if there were some way to express the full gravity of the situation to SEES before they died. There had to be some way to show them that their efforts had gone against their aims all this time, that they had merely accelerated the situation and brought the end about faster.

 

That their service to _her_ was greater than if they had fought with that aim in mind all along.

 

Someone knocked on his door. Ikutsuki cleared his throat and put his facade back on. Only a few more days and he wouldn't need it, but until then, he couldn't tip his hand. "Yes?"

 

"It's Aigis. I would like to speak to you about something."


	15. Avertissement

**Chapter 15 - Avertissement**

 

"This is it," Junpei grinned, tapping his sword on his shoulder as they walked to the Moonlight Bridge. Cars were stopped on the road and glowing coffins stood all around them, the consequences of the full moon falling on a Friday night. "We win this one and we're in the clear."

 

Yukari and Fuuka nodded and chatted to keep the mood light, but Minato stayed quiet. Indeed, this was it. The night of the full moon had come upon them inexorably, like the slow tightening of piano wire until the frame began to crack. He'd tried distracting himself, tried to focus on his dates with Mitsuru-senpai, but Pharos's warning kept echoing in his mind. Things were going to get worse after this? How? Why would they get worse if this was the last Shadow, as Kirijo-san and Ikutsuki said? Did the kid mean Strega was going to be a bigger problem than they already were? Unlikely, given how Pharos and Igor didn't think Takaya was a notable threat. But the warning had been clear, so what did it mean? What made Pharos's advice – and Igor's lack of it – so irritating was they were indicating something outside the full picture Minato had of the circumstances. They talked about important events that clearly involved him, but he was left without any idea where he had to look to find out what those were.

 

He knew that Mitsuru-senpai was anxious. The smooth grace was missing from her stride and she was scanning the gloom around them more intensely than usual. Akihiko-senpai was no better, giving the feeling of a predator stalking the edges of its cage. The discussions and planning sessions Minato had had with them had been somewhat productive, but more often they circled everything the group didn't know rather than effectively using what they did. Circular logic and baseless suppositions had abounded, and often the meetings ended with nothing gained. Minato knew that they didn't blame him for the situation, but he felt useless when so many questions were unanswered. No matter what they thought up, they were still going in blind, and none of them like it. The only silver lining to the situation was that the others seemed to be in good spirits, chalking the tension up to pre-battle jitters. Minato tried to attend to the conversation, but he couldn't find his usual calm. His sleep had been restless all week, he couldn't focus on training or schoolwork, and even with his senpai telling him they were in his corner, the persisting sense of uncertainty was wearing down his edge. Every unanswered question circled him, taunting him from just out of reach no matter what he did. Now the Dark Hour felt different, larger and foreboding instead of just dangerous. Something was going to happen, and he had no idea what.

 

"Are you unwell, Minato-san?" Aigis asked, her footsteps light in spite of her weapons and armour. She'd been quiet leading up to tonight, probably preparing in her own way. Minato didn't know what her rituals were, but he trusted her enough to not think about it. Machine or not, there was a lot about her that was human, and she had her reasons for doing what she did.

 

"I'm fine," he told her, trying to project a confidence he didn't feel. "I'm just thinking of how far we've come. It hasn't been that long since April, but it seems like a lifetime ago that things were normal." Up ahead, the Shadow was floating above the bridge, held aloft by what looked like wires attached to winged rings. How they held up that much mass, he couldn't begin to guess. Normal physics were warped in the Dark Hour, but this was definitely stranger than anything he'd seen so far.

 

"Combat and repeated experiences of adrenaline and stress can dilate the sense of time," she noted. "Mature combatants apparently undergo a similar change in their state of mind due to their training. It would be logical to assume that effect would be amplified for adolescents, even with Personas to help endure mental trauma."

 

Minato knew that she was trying to be helpful, but her observations and advice weren't much comfort right now. "I suppose so. Do you have any plans after this?"

 

She looked surprised by the question, but answered as steadily as always. "I would like to speak to Ken-san and view his progress once the Shadow is dealt with. I feel like his recovery should be a priority, and I have some ideas that might aid in his rehabilitation."

 

Minato nodded, grateful to have something to distract him from the feeling of wrongness around him. Thinking past this fight wasn't easy, and someone else's plans were a welcome distraction. He regretted not taking the chance to visit Ken before, and by the time the right words came to mind, it was too close to the full moon to do anything. Hopefully the message he'd sent had meant something; it was the best he could come up with at the time. "That's a good idea. I'll come with you."

 

"I would welcome your company, Minato-san."

 

He was about to reply when he felt a twinge against his mind, like the jolt of licking a battery only it flashed along his scalp. His eyes were drawn to the bridge where a dark shape stood, too far away to see. But Minato knew who it was – only one person had that effect since Shinjiro-senpai died. Strange that Fuuka hadn't detected anything; maybe their proximity to the Shadow caused too much interference. Had Takaya learned how her powers worked? Or was this a coincidence? Probably not; Takaya didn't seem to leave anything to chance. Minato stepped to the front of the group and drew his Evoker, hoping the others wouldn't fly off the handle too quickly. Once they were close enough to see who it was, the mood changed into a killing fury.

 

"I shouldn't be surprised," Minato called to Takaya from about ten yards away. The twinge had grown into an itch he couldn't scratch, a rustling between his ears and down the back of his neck as the sea of his soul churned. The discomfort had become more and more common since his conversation with the killer, like there was something under the sea rolling around in its sleep, sending waves and eddies every which way. Being this close to Takaya and Hypnos made Minato feel like he was clinging to a raft in the storm. This wasn't normal; what had the sick son of a bitch _done_? "You had a chance to stir the pot and couldn't resist, I'm guessing?"

 

"Allow me to defy your expectations," Takaya replied smoothly, holding out his hand in an invitation to pass. "I am here to observe, not to fight. I want to see what you will do with the Shadow, and what will happen if you kill it."

 

"You expect us to believe that?" Akihiko-senpai growled, the air hissing around him.

 

Takaya barely spared the boxer a glance. "What you believe is irrelevant to me. You don't matter. Only Arisato does, and he knows that I've been nothing but honest in our conversations." His smile had the feeling of a smirk. "By now I'm sure you've investigated the matters we discussed, haven't you? Was I right about Amada and the Kirijo Group?"

 

Minato bit his tongue, anger tumbling around and tripping on itself. This wasn't a conversation he could have right now, not with the others hungry for blood.

 

"You're a murderer!" Junpei snapped. "Why should we believe anything you say?"

 

"Because I've told you the truth," Takaya said as though the answer was simple to see. "Ask Arisato."

 

"That doesn't mean you wouldn't be lying now," Minato noted, trying to avoid the question. He hadn't told everyone the full details of that conversation, not certain he could explain the churning feeling in his soul without raising uncomfortable questions. All the questions Takaya raised, along with everything about the Shadows becoming suspect, wasn't what SEES had needed back then. They needed it even less now. "The best lies are mostly truths, and this would be the best time for you to screw with us, wouldn't it?"

 

"A fair observation, but you are wrong if you think I want you to fail. Whether your comrades live or die is immaterial, but I do want to see you succeed. If you don't, nothing will change, and the changes you bring about have been eminently amusing."

 

"So this is a game to you?" Yukari spat. "Your way of having fun?"

 

Again, Takaya looked mildly annoyed at the interruption. "I doubt you would understand, given your narrow-minded grudge against the Kirijo Group and foolish belief in justice and pursuit of revenge. You wouldn't understand even if I explained it. As I said, you and the others do not matter. Arisato does. The Shadows do. And they are the ones driving these events forward, whether you can feel it or not. Why would I not be interested in what happens next? Especially given Arisato's development last time we met."

 

Minato bit his lip, trying not to let the surprise show. He was immediately glad he was in front of everyone and they couldn't see his face.

 

"What do you mean?" Yukari asked. "You're lying again; there's no way we'd believe you!"

 

Minato knew that wasn't the case. Takaya's grin and narrow eyes showed that he knew too. The next move was a checkmate, something that could crack their morale right before a fight.

 

Yet Takaya took two steps forward and lowered his voice, seeming to want to speak only to Minato himself. "That thing you felt when we spoke," the pale man murmured, power thrumming quietly with each word. "It's not a normal Persona, not in the way you think. There's more to it, and I want to know what it is for certain. I think it's tied to the Shadows, and I think this will be when you find out."

 

Takaya knew something. He had to. He was as twisted as a snake with a broken back, but the words rang with a dreadful sense of truth. Minato couldn't stop from asking, "What are you talking about? What do you know?"

 

Takaya smirked more, shrugging this time. "Who can say?" His voice was up to its normal volume again.

 

"Who cares!? You're about to die!" Junpei pulled his Evoker and pulled the trigger. Hermes swung its blades at Takaya, stopped by an upheld hand and Hypnos's wings. Lightning and steel sizzled against each other, smoking spitefully until Takaya stepped back and let the strike miss him. He looked bored again.

 

"I assume you're angry over Aragaki's death," he noted dispassionately, "but is that the best you can do? If you think your skills are sufficient, that you can make any difference in this fight, you're quite mistaken."

 

"Your talk is empty. You can't beat all of us on your own," Akihiko-senpai told him, summoning Polydeuces in a flash of light.

 

"I don't have to," was Takaya's reply. He pulled his gun out and pointed it at a nearby coffin, cocking the hammer. The threat was clear. Junpei and Akihiko-senpai stopped in their tracks, growling hatefully like dogs ready to lunge. "Not willing to sacrifice the weak even if you clearly want to fight? Will you stop every time someone else is in danger? How can you get anything done like that?"

 

"We've beaten every Shadow up to this point without becoming like you," Mitsuru-senpai pointed out. "We defeated Yoshino, and that you've resorted to underhanded tactics speaks about you, not us."

 

"A valid point," Takaya conceded, looking at her with a hint of interest. "You must be the one who leads this group. The Kirijo chairman's daughter, correct?"

 

Senpai's expression was hard. "If I were, it wouldn't be wise to tell an enemy, would it?"

 

"Perhaps not." Takaya grinned, his eyes glowing under the light of the moon above. "Your prowess as killers of Shadows must be a point of pride, if you are prepared to boast about it. I look forward to your victory and whatever comes after it." He spun ninety degrees and pointed his gun at the hovering Shadow, firing four glowing shots in two seconds.

 

The monstrosity flinched, then roared and launched itself toward them. Minato couldn't believe it. Takaya watched for a moment, then ran toward the bridge railing and jumped off, blue light all around him.

 

There was no time to wonder what had just happened. The Shadow descended upon them and swung its cables through the air. The group scattered, and Minato found himself alone behind a car. He swore at Takaya for tripping the trap early and putting the plan into jeopardy. Now he had a fight on his hands, and focusing like how he'd discussed with his senpai became much harder.

 

Aigis's explosives and Yukari's arrows flew by him. Minato expected the Shadow to keep pressing forward, but instead it retreated behind a set of upraised statues, using them as shields.

 

Minato glanced around his cover, feeling his enemy out. This Shadow wasn't aggressive or daring, and when faced with firepower it tried to buy time. It would make sense if it attacked from a distance; in that case, and if it decided to hover over the river, they'd never kill it. Minato heard the whispers again, the alien pressure against his body firmer this time. The words were nonsense, but they were actually words this time, instead of the gibberish of the two Shadows at the train station. He might be able to work with this.

 

He waved at his senpai. They called for a halt and the barrage stopped. Minato ran past the statues and cut through the stray Shadows that came too close, ignoring the shouts from the others and Mitsuru-senpai's iron-clad orders to not interfere. What Minato was doing was risky, if not outright insane, but he didn't take cover as he approached the Shadow. Instead he stayed in the open where the beast could see him, and once the smaller ones had been dealt with he looked up at it. It hadn't attacked, and didn't look like it was going to. The eyes of the strange mask it wore were focused on him, the heavy weight of its gaze chittering along his skin, almost enough to push him back.

 

Minato squeezed his Evoker, finger off the trigger. This was it. Throw the dice and take whatever came up, one way or the other.

 

The Shadow descended to the ground on its wires, lumbering over like a top-heavy ape. The others had come up from behind, ready to assist, but Mitsuru-senpai and Akihiko-senpai held them back. Everyone protested, but the older students were firm.

 

Minato heard a strange sound then, an echoing voice that felt like it was coming through a tunnel miles long. The words were clear, but they were in a dialect of Japanese so archaic that he could only understand a few words at first. "What did you say?" he asked as the Shadow stopped in front of him. Every instinct and response trained into him for months screamed at him to either fight or run. The alien pressure grew heavy, and the smell of wrongness made him want to gag. But he needed answers, and that meant thinking outside the box.

 

**_"This one humbly offers greetings,"_** the Shadow repeated, its voice so bass-heavy that Minato could feel it in his sternum. **_"It cannot properly express its regret for its actions. It did not realize who was in front of it."_**

 

"Don't do anything," he told the others.

 

"Shadows are our enemy," Aigis protested. "Our purpose is to eliminate them, and any communication with them should be treated as highly suspect. Lowering our guard also puts us all in considerable risk at this range. What is the purpose of this, Minato-san?"

 

"We need answers about what's going on, Aigis," Akihiko-senpai told her firmly. "Arisato knows what he's doing. Unless we say otherwise, don't interrupt or do anything to provoke it."

 

"Minato-san can communicate with Shadows?" Aigis persisted. "We were not told this, and we had been instructed before to tell the group of any secrets or unexplained occurrences after Shinjiro-san died. Isn't this a violation of those instructions?"

 

"I hadn't heard of this either," Yukari noted, suspicion in her voice. "What's going on?"

 

"An experiment," Mitsuru-senpai told them in a tone that didn't allow protest. "It didn't work last time, and we had no way to know if it would work tonight. I didn't think it would get anywhere, so this is new for us too."

 

"Obviously not completely new if you knew something before now," Yukari protested.

 

"It's not that simple, Takeba," Akihiko-senpai growled back. "And it's too late to explain now, so just stay ready."

 

"Is he actually talking to the Shadow?" Junpei asked. "And it's talking back? How? I'm not hearing anything."

 

"I can hear some noise," Fuuka supplied in their minds, "but it sounds like static."

 

"This is a chance to get some answers," Mitsuru-senpai told them. "To those questions and many others. Don't attack it unless we give the order."

 

**_"The others intend to kill this one,"_** the Shadow observed. **_"The others feel this one is a threat that must be eliminated. This one understands."_**

 

"They won't do anything," Minato replied, thinking of how insane it was to try and assure the Shadow of its safety, to not rock the boat and start a fight. What was he going to do once it stopped talking? Would it try and attack? Would it sit back and let them kill it? Things really had gone insane since April. "I have some questions that I need answered."

 

**_"This one will answer."_ **

****

"One of the other Sha– That is, one of the others referred to me as the Appriser. What is that?"

 

A low groaning came from the Shadow's body as it tilted its head. **_"Please forgive this one. If it may be so discourteous, it is surprised that such a question would be asked."_**

 

The only time Minato had heard vernacular so self-effacing, where the person referred to themselves as "it" and "this one" out of extreme politeness, was in samurai anime and movies showing peasants brought before the emperor. The highest form of politeness and courtesy, not to raise one's head or speak unless told to. Hearing it in actual conversation made this insane conversation so surreal that it actually felt real. "What's wrong with the question? Why is it strange?"

 

**_"This one did not intend offense. It is surprised."_** The Shadow drew itself up, then settled back down like a teacher across the desk about to explain a new theory. **_"The Appriser is Her agent. Her Herald. This one does not understand why the one before it is asking that question  – the Appriser's role is that of the one before it."_**

 

Minato went cold. Something about the Shadow's words, how it said 'Her,' turned his stomach on the level of his Personas. That _thing_ that had reacted to Takaya shifted and rumbled, and Minato felt sick. When he was sure he could speak without puking, he asked, "What function do I serve? Why am I different from the others? Why can I understand you when no one else can?"

 

The Shadow's attention went to the rest of SEES, then back to Minato. **_"Those others are themselves. Those others are not the Appriser. It is the Appriser's nature to act as the Appriser must, therefore the Appriser is capable of achieving its goal. Communication with this one and the others like it, for example."_**

****

That was something, though it immediately led to more questions. "Where did this come from? What makes me the Appriser and not someone else?"

 

**_"This one cannot answer; it does not understand the question. The Appriser is the Appriser. Its role is not adopted or lost. It simply_ ** **is _."_**

****

"Where did the role come from?"

 

**_"From Her."_ **

****

Again Minato's stomach churned. "I don't know who you mean. Who are you talking about?"

 

**_"This one cannot give such an answer. If the one before it does not remember, this one cannot presume to explain – it is beyond this one's abilities."_ **

****

A clear answer, finally. Why hadn't the other Shadows been like this? Was it because this one was more cautious than the one in the hotel and the club? Could the one on the train have talked like this if Minato could understand it? Or was it just the luck of the throw? "Are you the last Shadow?"

 

**_"The last?"_ **

****

"We were told that killing you would end the Dark Hour, that you were the last of the Shadows that escaped ten years ago. Is that true?"

 

The Shadow shifted, and its far-off voice rumbled in the distance for a few seconds before it spoke again. **_"This thing which is called the Dark Hour, this one does not understand what is meant. This one does not know of any other time but this one. Is it possible for time itself to end?"_**

 

That made sense; the Shadows wouldn't understand the normal world if they were here all the time.

 

**_"But this one is not the last. The others have died, as this one will, but there is another."_ **

****

Minato jerked, staring at the creature incredulously. "Another Shadow? You're sure?"

 

**_"This one is certain, though it is confused again. The question of a last Shadow from the one before it is very strange."_ **

****

When Minato relayed the information to the others, their reactions were predictably varied and intense. Yukari demanded to know why they were learning about this now, wanting to know who'd been keeping secrets; Junpei was grinding his teeth; and both the senpai looked grim. The reason was clear: They knew they'd been lied to. Even worse, they'd helped perpetuate the lie. Oddly, Aigis didn't look surprised, but then again she didn't look anything right now aside from ready to kill her target.

 

"If the Shadow is a threat then we'll need to deal with it," Minato said. "That's what we're here to do."

 

The Shadow hesitated, the distant rumblings more like bemused murmurs now. **_"This one understands."_** Even its tone felt more like it was a concession than an actual answer, like it was agreeing out of politeness. **_"But it cannot offer an answer."_**

 

"Let's go back to what you said before, about the Appriser being a herald. What does that mean? And what is the Appriser supposed to do?"

 

**_"The one before it is fulfilling the Appriser's role already. To say what the Appriser is would be, in this one's most humble opinion, redundant."_ **

****

"But what is it? All I've been doing since I got here is fighting Shadows." Minato knew he had his answer the moment the words crossed his lips. It was the same answer that Igor and Pharos had given him right from the beginning. "I'm supposed to kill the Shadows? You and the others?"

 

**_"That is the Appriser's role."_ **

****

"Why? What's achieved by killing you?"

 

**_"The Appriser does this because the Appriser must. This one cannot speak to Her greater goal – it is not this one's place to question – but the Appriser's reasons are Her reasons."_ **

****

Again, the word _Her_ twisted in Minato's stomach. What was going on? Was this tied to Takaya and what he'd done? "I have _my_ reasons, but what are the others reasons I should do it? Why is the Appriser supposed to kill Shadows?" He remembered what Igor had told him back in the Velvet Room. "What future is the Appriser supposed to bring about?"

 

**_"Her future."_ **

****

Except Igor had said that was only one possible outcome, where the Shadows would overtake humanity. The other outcomes were still a mystery. "What does that look like? Why does it require killing you?"

 

**_"It is Her will that this one dies at the Appriser's hands. It was Her will that the others die the same way."_** The Shadow bowed, its giant head nearly touching the pavement of the bridge. **_"This one is prepared."_**

 

The others rustled and talked among themselves, probably not knowing what was going on. Minato was even more lost. "What?"

 

**_"This one's life must end. That is its purpose."_ **

****

What sort of creature sought its own death? A new thought came to mind, and Minato paused as it ran its terrible course. The Shadow was suggesting it was planned for the Shadows to die at his hand. The Kirijo Group had transferred him to the island, and Ikutsuki had put them all on the path of finding and killing the Full Moon Shadows. Now this Shadow inferred someone else had planned for the Shadows to die, that it was required for something further, reinforcing what Pharos had suggested. Were these agendas separate? Were two parties aiming for the same goals with different intentions? Or was there more? Worse, was this what Takaya had been referring to all this time? Did he know the truth already? Was that what he found so amusing? Minato couldn't believe that, but the pieces were aligning and they resembled a very clever set-up. "Tell me who She is first," he demanded hoarsely.

 

**_"This one cannot,"_** the Shadow intoned. **_"This one would not dare to speak of Her more than it already has."_**

****

"If it wants us to kill it, we should do it," Junpei suggested when Minato caught them up on the exchange. "Makes things a lot easier for us."

 

"We're no further ahead than when we started if we do that," Mitsuru-senpai countered. "We need what information we can get, especially if there's more that we're not seeing."

 

"You're not suggesting we spare it, are you?" Yukari demanded.

 

"I'm saying we shouldn't kill it just because we have the advantage."

 

The arguments began to circle again. Minato turned to the creature, still prostrated before him. "Why do you want to die? Because someone told you to?"

 

**_"This one's purpose is to die at the hands of the Appriser. This one has no purpose beyond that, and that is a purpose this one is glad to serve. The Appriser has appeared, so this one must die."_ **

****

The foreboding feeling ran around Minato like water, floating up into his chest and surrounding his heart. His Personas went silent all at once, and the thing in the sea of his soul rumbled like distant thunder. Whatever it was, it was real, and that had been a warning. Minato clenched his Evoker and forged ahead anyway. "I want answers first. I want to know who She is and what part She plays in this."

 

**_"This one cannot answer. This one's life must end. It must happen."_ **

****

Minato couldn't believe what he said next. "I'm not killing you until you give me what I want." Even entertaining the idea of sparing a Shadow was lunacy, and he was certain the others would be happy to tell him as much. "If I have to, I'll leave you here, and you'll have lost your chance to do your duty."

 

Silence fell around him, from his companions and from the Shadow. **_"The Appriser would do this?"_**

 

Minato's left arm began to tingle, from his shoulder down to the hand holding his Evoker. He fought it down, not sure if he should risk dropping his Evoker. "Yes, I will, unless you tell me what I need to know."

 

The Shadow's voice changed, feeling like it was coming from closer than before. **_"This one must die. The Appriser is needed for this. It must fulfill its role."_**

 

"Give me what I want first."

 

The Shadow's voice went quiet, then the far-off sound suddenly became a roar right in front of them. A shockwave of raw power erupted against them, sending coffins tumbling and flipping over cars. Cables lashed out, grabbing Akihiko-senpai and Yukari and lifting them in a sinister twisting motion. **_"These ones will die!"_** the Shadow bellowed into Minato's mind. **_"If the Appriser will not fulfill its role, then the others will!"_**

 

The others attacked immediately, Personas coming to life and explosives flying forward. Minato felt disconnected, like he was about to slip backward while everything came into perfect clarity. Mitsuru-senpai giving orders, her voice shrill with fear. Aigis reloading her weapons and taking aim. Koromaru glowing like a small white sun and Junpei bringing his Evoker up. The Shadow's mask contorted into a visage of madness and fury, its cables waving Yukari and Akihiko-senpai like dolls about to be torn apart.

 

It hit. A heartbeat from the depths, an undiluted urge to _kill_. Overwhelming anger, a thirst for blood. Knowing where to hit, where to rip and tear. How to kill. Minato clutched his head, gritting his teeth as his vision strobed. The sensation was familiar – he'd felt this once before. When? How?

 

Another heartbeat almost bowled him over. The cramp in his left arm tightened, and Minato watched in horror as it raised, independent of his will. He couldn't control it, and his finger was on the trigger of his Evoker. "Stop," he grit out, clamping his right hand onto his left to hold it back. To gain some control. To do _something_.

 

The third heartbeat was like a growl, a threat against disobedience. Minato pushed back, terrified of what was coming, of whether he could control whatever it was. Where had it come from? Was this Takaya's doing?

 

_"Akihiko!"_ Mitsuru-senpai shouted, fear rich in her voice. _"Takeba!"_

Minato's eyes went to the Shadow. Time dilated. He took in the frozen image of the Shadow, wounded but still raging, brackish blood spattering the bridge. He heard the echoes of gunfire and Persona summonings. The others were fighting hard, desperate now.

 

It wasn't enough. The low chattering from the Shadow told Minato something very clearly: Those two were about to die.

 

Minato stared in that frozen moment as terror for his friends struck. Control slipped through his fingers like it was covered in oil. His left hand flashed up, the trigger pulled when the barrel touched skin.

 

It felt like being blown apart.

 

Whatever was pushing him from the inside erupted from his entire body, head to heels, flooding out of every pore. Something blacker than the Dark Hour flew forward, amorphous like sable mercury, with the speed of a bullet train. Minato felt ceaseless bloodlust and hatred. He heard a collision like a wrecking ball destroying a model house. It felt like his limbs had been severed at every joint, like he was floating and fractured and forced to watch.

 

Then it was over.

 

Yukari and Akihiko-senpai fell to the ground, gasping for air as the Shadow's cables fizzed away. The others looked at Minato with amazement then rushed over to help their friends, edging around the Shadow like they couldn't believe the fight was over so fast. It was hard to argue with what lay before them, however.

 

Their enemy had been shredded. Its arms and legs were either bent backward or sheared off entirely. A ragged, man-sized hole was torn through its chest. Its mask was in pieces. It teetered back like it wasn't certain what had just happened. Then it toppled and began to die.

 

Minato's left arm cramped as reality crystallized and forced him back into focus. Then he ran past the others, holstering his Evoker and trying to get to the Shadow before it disappeared. "What was that?!" he demanded. "What the hell just happened?!"

 

The far-off voice brushed his ears. Unintelligible this time, gurgling like the Shadow was choking on its own blood.

 

"Why did you want to die?!" Minato shouted, reaching impulsively for the mask. "Who were you talking about?!" He picked up a mask fragment, and un-reality flashed through him. The Shadow was fading fast, but its thoughts brushed him. Pain, surprise, and pride at a task accomplished. The something inside Minato rustled beneath the surface, silent but no longer sleeping. Minato felt his eyes being pulled skyward, to the full moon, but then the Shadow's mind nudged him. _Further_ , it seemed to say. _Look there_.

 

Minato let the feeling swell up. It was like seeing the picture only when his eyes went out of focus. Something was out there, something the Shadows answered to, that sat above the events until now. It was far off, but... _approaching_. Minato couldn't explain how he knew, but he was certain, beyond any word or feeling, that he had his answer. He knew why Igor had been so wary of the Appriser. He knew that Pharos had been right and the fight wasn't over, that things were about to get much, much worse. And as the Dark Hour wavered even while the Shadow disintegrated into nothing, he knew they'd all just made a terrible mistake.

 

The mask fragment in his hand crumbled into dust, falling onto the stagnant breeze. Minato didn't look back at the others, no idea what to say or how to explain his attempted gamble that might have killed two of them. The plan had worked, but now the only thing he was certain of was that this wasn't a victory at all.

 

"Are you unhurt, Minato-san?" Aigis asked, stepping up next to him.

 

Minato didn't answer, and it wasn't until she repeated the question that he looked at the road. Even the bloodstains were gone. The last chance of a link, of any more answers, had vanished. "I don't know."

 

"I wasn't aware you could speak to Shadows."

 

It was impossible to give her the due attention. Minato gave what auto-pilot responses he could. "This was the first time I ever tried."

 

"Such an attempt would be predicated on a knowledge that the Shadows could speak or be spoken to," Aigis persisted. "I did not have information that suggested as much, neither in my original duties or during my reassignment to SEES. What information prompted you to make the attempt? When did you become aware of this ability?"

 

"A while ago."

 

"Could you be more specific?"

 

"Months."

 

"Before Ken-san left for the Kirijo Group's facility, then."

 

He turned to her, biting back a response. He knew where she was coming from. While he didn't want to put up with an inquisition right now, he couldn't blame her for feeling like she'd been left out of the loop – keeping secrets when he'd demanded honesty from the others was pretty hypocritical. And with how literally she took things, this probably seemed like "do as I say, not as I do" from him and Mitsuru-senpai. "That's right. I didn't know what it meant or who to talk to about it, so I didn't tell the rest of the team. What of it?"

 

"You asked us to be forthright with any secrets we might have that could jeopardize the mission. No matter how innocuous, that was your sentiment." She was sounding accusatory.

 

"I told our senpai," he told her shortly. "What they decided to do with the information isn't in my control."

 

"That Persona you used. Where did it come from?"

 

Minato was surprised. He expected her to keep digging, not switch attack vectors entirely. "I don't know. It's like it took me over, like I flinched and it got out. I've never felt anything like that before."

 

"The statistical probabilities of one Persona inflicting such damage to a Shadow of that size is 0.0256%. For it to move that fast is also unprecedented; I had difficulty seeing what it looked like."

 

"And then it disappeared," Minato noted. Whatever the thing had been, it tore through the Shadow and disappeared back into its hidey hole. Except it wasn't gone. It rested under the surface, waiting like a tiger watching the door of its cage.

 

"Is it under your control, Minato-san?"

 

How could he answer that? He didn't even know what that thing was, what it could do or why it felt like no Persona had before. He had to come to terms with the reality that there were even more things he didn't know, and that the assumptions they'd been basing their actions on all this time were wrong. How was he supposed to know what was going on anymore? "Come on," he told her. Anything he said now would lead to questions he couldn't answer and accusations he couldn't deflect. He needed a break before the barrage. "Let's get back to the dorm."

 

"As you wish," she said, walking over to see if Yukari needed any help. She seemed only lightly injured, Akihiko-senpai much the same. Minato counted his blessings. Whatever that Persona was, it was easily strong enough to have killed them both along with the Shadow. To get away from that situation with bruises and scrapes was beyond lucky.

 

"Is she okay?" Minato asked Mitsuru-senpai, nodding toward Fuuka. The girl was leaning heavily against the bridge railing, wiping her lips while massaging her head.

 

"Whatever you did caused an intense blast of feedback for her," Senpai explained, remarkably calm. "The Shadow attacking, you summoning that Persona, and then it killing the Shadow seems to have hit her all at once. She couldn't defend against it, resulting in vomiting and an intense migraine."

 

Minato winced. Fuuka had also been getting signals from everyone at the same time, so that Persona getting out must have hit hard. "That's never happened before, has it? Will she be okay?"

 

"She hasn't been sick to her stomach like that before, not that I've seen. That never happened to me when I was performing support roles, but I suspect I didn't feel things as strongly as she does. I gave her some pills for the pain. We'll see how well she sleeps tonight and I'll keep her under observation."

 

Minato hoped Fuuka got better – he was becoming a connoisseur of pain and he didn't wish it on anyone. He didn't want an answer to his next question, but he had to know. "Did you pick up anything? Do you know what happened?"

 

It was a moment before Senpai spoke. "I couldn't hear the Shadow speaking. Like Yamagishi, all I heard was faint static. And that Persona you used was more powerful than anything I've felt before. Everything happened too fast for me to get a clear read on it, but what I did feel... it wasn't normal."

 

Minato shivered, not meeting her eyes. He looked at his left hand and flexed it, making sure it was still under his control. "Right."

 

"What happened?" she asked softly, leaning forward. "Are you okay?"

 

"I have no idea. Things might be bad, Senpai. Really, really bad."

 

"Is that what the Shadow told you?"

 

"In part. That Persona I used, you're right. It's not like anything I've ever felt before, and it wanted to kill the Shadow. It took me over, and I–" He bit back against the panic rising in his throat. He didn't dare say the words that wanted out: _"I lost control."_ If he said them, they'd be real, and the last time someone in SEES lost control, Ken's mother died. He couldn't say that, not with everyone confused. Not with what the Shadow had said. "I don't know where it came from," he continued awkwardly. "That's not all. I felt something when the Shadow died, it could be its last thoughts. I think I can confirm some of what it was saying, that there's something behind them and the Dark Hour. Killing the Shadow changed things in a big way. Bigger than we expected."

 

She was quiet as she processed everything. It only took a few seconds before she nodded, stepping back. "Let's get the others back. I want to make sure they're all right. Once you're ready, we'll talk."

 

Minato's breathing shook. She had every reason to mistrust him, to be afraid of what he'd just shown her, or to be angry after he put the others in danger to satisfy his need for answers. Instead she was giving him his space. "Thanks, Mitsuru-senpai. For understanding."

 

"Of course." She said it like it was natural. "We're in this together."

 

Minato couldn't believe how much her trust calmed him down. Simple words, but they made him believe that he could take the next few steps without breaking down. His breathing steadied and he felt, just for a second, like things would turn out in his favour.

 

She turned to the others and began doling out orders. Junpei was to help Akihiko-senpai back, even of the boxer objected strenuously against any assistance. Aigis helped Yukari, who accepted the help with far less opposition. And Mitsuru herself helped Fuuka, letting the girl lean on her as the Dark Hour ended and they began their trek home.

 

As far as victory marches went, even just to where the Kirijo cars awaited, it was uncomfortable beyond description. Minato stayed at the back of the group, not saying anything as he walked. Junpei and Yukari looked back frequently, obviously having questions, but both Mitsuru-senpai and Akihiko-senpai herded them forward. Questions were being quashed and Minato looked anywhere but at his friends. Off to the left was the river, but he found he couldn't walk straight without looking at the sidewalk. When he looked to the right, he had the shoreline to watch, but his eyes were being pulled up toward the moon again, calling to mind the nameless presence he'd felt through the Shadow. The best he could do was watch the road in front of him, eyes downcast and mouth shut like he'd been cast out of the group.

 

The ride back to the dorm was a small reprieve since the others were in different cars, but it didn't last long. Soon they were back out on the street, together, and the tension was heavy.

 

Mitsuru-senpai raised her hand, calling their attention. "You all have questions, about what happened tonight and why we did what we did. Right now isn't the time to address them, not when some of us are injured and unwell."

 

Minato expected Akihiko-senpai to object again. The boxer didn't say a word. Yukari and Junpei, on the other hand, looked like they had a few words in mind. Fuuka just looked pale, like she wanted to crawl into a hole and not come out.

 

"But right now we need to rest and recover from the fight," Mitsuru-senpai continued. "Tomorrow afternoon we will have a meeting about these things. You can ask any questions and we will give whatever answers we have. Some of those answers might not satisfy you, and that's because there's still a lot we don't know about – the whole point of this experiment was to get information and, as you can see, we weren't entirely successful. But we will give you what answers we can. This will also be when we discuss what to do next. Clearly we weren't told everything if there's one more Shadow, and that needs to be addressed."

 

"Will this really get us anywhere?" Yukari asked grimly. "Even after getting this far, it feels like we're still running in circles."

 

"I agree, and that's what we're going to try and find out. But not right now. Everyone needs to get some rest. It's been a long night for all of us."

 

Yukari didn't look happy, but she nodded and helped Fuuka into the dorm. Junpei was scratching the back of his head, probably trying to figure out how their expected last fight had gone sideways so quickly. Aigis entered the dorm without a word or a look to anyone. Even Koromaru seemed distracted by something.

 

Minato leaned against the wall about ten yards down the street from the door, trying to make sense of everything and failing spectacularly. Every answer jumbled together until he let out a frustrated breath.

 

"It's not going to go well," Mitsuru-senpai predicted as she joined him. "Takeba's probably fed up with what we're not telling her. She might think the Group is hiding things again."

 

"This time we can't even tell her she's wrong," Minato noted, glad for something familiar to talk about. The minutiae of SEES and how to talk to his friends was better than chasing his tail for answers he didn't have. "Aigis might be a problem too."

 

She nodded, not looking happy but handling the situation pretty well. "I expect so. Akihiko knows what's coming, but this might be the worst outcome to result from a victory."

 

"I've been thinking about that. About our options, about what we could have done differently."

 

"What have you come up with?"

 

Minato let out a breath. "There are a few things I can't make sense of. Killing the Shadows helps people and decreases the number of the Lost in the city. We've seen that clearly so there's no way we're wrong there. The Shadows are dangerous, like they're the predators of the Dark Hour, so we don't have a choice but to fight them, and we don't have a way to interrogate them or neutralize them without a huge expense of resources, and that's assuming that confining them would even do anything. Killing them isn't the wrong course of action, and that's what your father and Ikutsuki have said all along."

 

She stood across from him, nodding. "It's why we started SEES, and it's what I've heard all this time too. All the evidence bears those explanations out."

 

"Only now we find out that killing the Shadows also helps push another agenda," Minato continued, "by something or someone who that Shadow talked about like it was a god. Taken in that light, we've been helping this thing by doing what has helped other people, and we had no way of knowing. It feels like we've been set up, but what we're doing isn't ambiguous or wrong somewhere we're not seeing. What we're doing is right, and if we don't do it then things get worse, so not killing them isn't an option. We're damned if we do and damned if we don't."

 

She raised an eyebrow as his choice of language, but nodded. "An apt description. The only way forward was to do what we did, but that might have had unintended consequences that could work against us."

 

"I think this is more than 'might.' This one might have tipped the scales in a big way."

 

She pursed her lips, turning things over in her mind. "Why do you say that? Is it because of what Pharos and Elizabeth-san said?"

 

"It's not just them. When the Shadow died, I felt something else. I'm not sure, but it could be whatever the Shadow was willing to die for, the Her it was talking about. I could only get a brief feel for it, but that was enough."

 

"Did you feel anything else?"

 

"That it's coming," Minato said simply. "It's definitely real, and I don't think it's friendly."

 

"Pharos said things were going to get harder after this fight," Senpai noted. "If this is what he meant, then the pieces connect. I am curious how he knew that, or if there was anything we could have done if we'd had this information before."

 

"I've been wondering that myself," Minato told her. "If we were being set up to help the enemy in the long run, then did someone know about it? It seems strange that we played right into this plan without anyone considering alternatives, but then we have to reconsider everything we've been told right from the beginning. And then there's the matter of whoever's been misleading us. Did Ikutsuki and your father have bad information? If Ikutsuki knew this before, has it all been a set-up? If so, to what end? If bringing this thing out was someone's plan the whole time, I can't see what their end goal would be."

 

"And if not for your intervention, we wouldn't even know this much," Mitsuru-senpai added. "Igor-san and Elizabeth-san said you're a catalyst for change. That has made me wonder what would have happened if you hadn't come here. Would we have been able to fight the Shadows? Perhaps so, though not as efficiently, so let's assume that the grander plans didn't change because of you, but were already in place and you just accelerated them. Our objectives haven't changed since Takeba moved to the dorm, so you arriving didn't change things in any great measure."

 

That was a good point. Aside from Minato being given the job of leading the forays against the Shadows, their mission had been the same right from the beginning. "You're saying if there is a plan in the background, it's been there the entire time?"

 

"It must be," she asserted. "Otherwise there would be no way of concealing the lie once you changed things. If we'd killed the Shadows without you, then we might well have walked into this trap and never known what was really going on with the Shadows. The only question, therefore, is whether the source of our information knew that killing the Shadows would forward this other agenda, or if that source passed on incorrect information, not knowing the truth. The latter would be understandable, if lamentable, but the former would be an act of malicious intent."

 

It felt like they were getting somewhere now. "The information on the Shadows and their connection to the Lost, where did you get it? Your father, Ikutsuki, anyone else?"

 

"Records we were able to recover from the lab ten years ago, though those are incomplete and fragmented. Aigis's memory is unreliable, as we've established, and she was made to kill Shadows without a grander directive in mind. The only other source, and perhaps the most concise one we have, is the recording from Takeba's father that we showed you at Yakushima.  He said that if the Shadows weren't killed, then the Lost would grow in number. He didn't say anything about something manipulating the Shadows, but I doubt he would have had that information. Given that he recorded it shortly before he died, I can hardly blame him."

 

Minato remembered the recording. It had seemed fairly straightforward. "Was there anything else to it?"

 

"Nothing, and I saw the footage before she did. That doesn't discount the possibility that there might have been information before or after that message that was lost, but my father trusted him."

 

"Then that leaves Ikutsuki," Minato concluded. "If he wasn't already under investigation, it seems like this would be a good reason to ask him some questions."

 

Senpai looked grim. "I agree, but if he has been orchestrating this course of action the entire time, then we've been playing into his hand with no idea of his end goal. We'd never have known if you hadn't come along. If he's just been wrong this whole time, then we've come a long way based on a fiction. And if he's been planning this the whole time, then what else could we have been made to believe?"

 

"I think questioning him is a good place to start," Minato concluded. "The more we know, the better the odds are of us being able to ask the right questions. Maybe we'll find out more about this thing the Shadow was talking about."

 

She nodded, and they turned toward the dorm, hoping the others had retired for the night. They had just reached the steps when Akihiko-senpai pushed through the doors. "Good, you're here," he told them tersely.

 

"What is it?" Mitsuru-senpai asked, all business.

 

"Ikutsuki's not here."

 

They both looked at him sharply. "What?"

 

"He's gone. I wanted to talk to him, but he wasn't in his office. The command centre's been accessed using his codes, I'm not sure for what, and when I looked through his room it looked like he'd packed up and left. No one at the Kirijo compound knows anything."

 

"There's no way that's a coincidence," Minato noted. "I think we can say with certainty that he was behind something."

 

Mitsuru-senpai's eyes narrowed. "But we don't know what. He might have manipulated Amada into fighting Shinjiro, but he might have been ignorant of the Shadows and the larger picture. He might not have been working alone if he's had this strong of an influence on us for so long, and now we can't answer those questions."

 

"Questions about the Shadows," Akihiko-senpai noted, looking at Minato. "That has something to do with tonight, I'm guessing."

 

Minato nodded and gave his report to the boxer.

 

Akihiko-senpai looked like he wanted to hit something. "Coming this far and we're still on someone's strings like puppets. What the hell was he thinking?"

 

"We're going to have to tell the others about this tomorrow," Mitsuru-senpai informed them. "Even if it's not much, they deserve to know about our suspicions of Ikutsuki, in case he tried to manipulate them or told them thing we haven't heard about. We also need to make sure they're ready to fight whatever Arisato felt, whether that's the next Shadow or something bigger."

 

"That means we're fighting blind again," Akihiko-senpai noted with a grimace.

 

"There's no choice. We have to reconsider everything we've been told. Arisato's experiences and Igor-san's directions might be the only things we can rely on right now."

 

"All he told us was to keep killing Shadows and not ask questions about the bigger picture," Akihiko-senpai countered. "He implied that he knew more than he was sharing. How much does he know? And can we trust his intentions when the stakes are this high?"

 

"I think he would have told us if he could," Minato offered. "He's helped us when and where he can, especially with me and my Personas. If his hands are tied then this might be where we're supposed to be. He pretty much said as much before, and he seemed to think we could handle whatever's coming." He could see the protests coming, and he knew they were valid. "I'll talk to him tomorrow, first thing in the morning. Now that we've gotten this far, maybe he'll have some more answers for us. If not him, then maybe I can get something out of Elizabeth."

 

Mitsuru-senpai nodded. "We'll have the meeting as planned, whether you learn more or not. If your suspicions are correct, then this isn't the time for us to fall apart."

 

\---

 

Minato swore under his breath as he left the Velvet Room. He'd barely gotten any sleep, up most of the night thinking through the possibilities in front of him and trying to connect the pieces. Before he knew it, morning had arrived and he felt sandy and cranky. He ate his breakfast alone and left the dorm, writing a note for his senpai and planning to make good on his promise to get whatever answers he could. During the ride to Paulownia Mall he went over possible outcomes and arguments he could make to get those answers.

 

In all the scenarios he ran through his head, he hadn't considered the idea that they wouldn't be there. When he went into the Velvet Room, Igor and Elizabeth were nowhere to be found. The desk where Igor sat was empty, there was no sign of where they might have gone, and the room had been quiet. He knew Elizabeth could enter the real world, given how liberally she did so before, but Igor had seemed content to stay in the Velvet Room and maintain his distance. Minato had never minded the old man's habits, especially when he needed to merge Personas and use the Velvet Room's services, but now those habits were cutting the other way and Minato didn't like it at all.

 

There had been no note left in the Velvet Room to explain the absence of Igor and his attendant, but Minato had a feeling that the timing of the absence wasn't a coincidence. Igor had told him that he needed to keep fighting Shadows and continue on the path he was on already, that no other matters were of consequence. This absence felt like an affirmation of that sentiment, saying without words, "keep doing what you're doing and stop asking so many questions." Minato had to wonder if he was expected to figure out his next moves on his own. If Pharos was following his usual schedule, then he should appear tonight or tomorrow, and that might shed some light on the matters at hand.

 

Minato looked back at the phantasmal door and swore again. He'd taken the Velvet Room attendants for granted, thinking they would always be available to help him. Now that they weren't, he felt isolated. He'd have to rely on Senpai and her investigation for answers, and hope that the information they already had was going to magically spawn answers just because SEES so desperately needed them.

 

It was a bad start to a worse day. The meeting Mitsuru-senpai promised happened, and it felt like a lot of blind firing and grasping at straws. Fuuka was still suffering from her migraine, so she stayed at the edge of the room as the others argued. Koromaru stayed nearby, but he seemed listless and discontent. Junpei tried to make sense of the information but couldn't reconcile Minato's talk with the Shadow with Ikutsuki's disappearance. There was every possibility that the Shadow was lying, he argued, especially after the one in the love hotel screwed with their heads. It was a hard point to dismiss. "And if Ikutsuki was behind this, and let's say this thing Minato felt is going to kill everyone," he continued, "why would Ikutsuki want that? He's human too, he doesn't have a Persona, so he'd die if things got that bad. Why would he want that?"

 

Yukari's points were, as Mitsuru-senpai predicted, more toward the Kirijo Group and how nothing was what it seemed. "Why are we relying on their information when they've been wrong on so much up to now? They've been behind so much of this – I mean, their experiments were what caused the Dark Hour and the Shadows in the first place – so why should we take their word on anything? Their resources haven't helped us anywhere near as much as they should, and we're the ones who are doing the fighting. I'm not trying to offend you Mitsuru-senpai, but this is a lot of wrong turns for the Group to make when we're supposed to able to trust them."

 

"Because they're the best we can do right now," Minato argued back. "It's not ideal, but they're doing all they can and they're the only ones who're in our corner. Unless someone knows of another organization with their funding and research into the Shadows and the Dark Hour, I don't think we can make the argument that we'd all be better off without their help."

 

"I'm not saying that, but this is a lot of mistakes for them to make."

 

"I agree," Mitsuru-senpai replied. "And I won't make excuses for the Group or for how SEES has been misled up to now. I don't know the extent of the damage, but I won't pretend that there haven't been problems. Whatever the Group tells us will be met with scrutiny, and to a great extent we will be on our own in dealing with the next Shadow. I don't know that anything they can offer us at this point would be of any real use, and I won't ask anyone to ignore what's in front of us. And if Ikutsuki has been manipulating what's been happening with Amada and Shinjiro, then the damage done by the Group resources almost outweighs the benefits. But unless we have an alternative, then this is the best we can do."

 

Yukari sat back with a huff. "I get that, and I'm not blaming you, Senpai. But this really, really sucks."

 

Mitsuru-senpai chuckled, a brief bout of levity in the conversation. "I agree."

 

"Does anyone know where Aigis went?" Yukari asked.

 

That had stood out the most in the discussion. Aigis had left the dorm without telling anyone and wasn't responding to calls to find out where she was. The meeting had started late because everyone waited to see if she was going to show up, but to no avail. The absence of their companion had left an uneasy air in the room, and the meeting had dwindled out until they all went their separate ways. Minato went for a walk with Koromaru, trying to clear his head, but he ended up in his room for a fitful nap, his dreams murky.

 

It was dark out when he awoke, feeling less refreshed and more groggy. He changed and did his homework but when he checked the clock, he frowned. It was time for Yukari's regular shower, but he didn't hear the water running. He wanted one for himself, but he wasn't going to get started only to have it turn cold partway through. When he stopped to listen to the dorm around him, he found it odd that he couldn't hear any of the usual ambient noise he'd become familiar with. Not the faint murmur of the TV in Junpei's room, not the impact of fists against a punching bag from Akihiko-senpai, and not the clicks of Koromaru's nails on the floors.

 

Maybe they'd gone out for the evening, or to get groceries. It wasn't common for everyone to be out when they didn't have school, but it wasn't completely out of the ordinary. Maybe they all needed their space right now, but it was strange no one had talked to him before they did. Minato decided to find out and then check up on Fuuka. If she still had a migraine, maybe he could help her somehow. He left his room and went down the stairs to the lobby, seeing Yukari asleep on the couch. That was strange given that she didn't like the fabric on that one, complaining how it was too rough on her skin even to sit on for very long. Maybe she was still tired from the night before. Minato approached, noticing how it seemed less like she was sleeping on the couch and more like...

 

Like she'd fallen there.

 

Minato's combat instincts flashed to life when he heard the whirring of servos, when he smelled high-grade oil. He spun to see Aigis behind him, a sharp prick in his shoulder registering before the turn was complete. "Aigis, what's wron–" His tongue turned heavy. His knees wavered, things turned fuzzy, and a second later he was falling into darkness and toward the floor.


	16. Mordhau

**Author's Notes:** Hello to all my awesome readers. I hope you had a great Christmas, and I wish you all Godspeed in the new year. I would be remiss to not give thanks to my readers and those who have commented on the story so far. Kiliel4ever, linkzeldi, amorea and luxtenebras, thank you for your comments; I love reading them and hearing about what people like about my work. Thanks to everyone who left kudos, and to anyone reading the story at all. It means the world.

 

Enjoy the chapter, and I'll see you on the next one.

 

**Chapter 16 - Mordhau**

 

Darkness. Suspended in place.

 

After months of fighting, Minato knew what restful, uninterrupted sleep felt like – it was the opposite of what he had almost every night. Having a cavalcade of Personas in his head, dreaming wasn't fragmented flickers of thought and emotion. It was clear and lucid, voices all around him, pushed by impulses he had since allowed to pass him by. And when the Personas were quiet, all things Mitsuru-senpai took centre stage (something that had been happening more often lately). Dreamless sleep was rare for Arisato Minato.

 

This was different. His Personas felt muffled and far away. There was no sense of up or down. He was aware of the dream, but movement felt like pushing against water without gravity, with minimum resistance. Was he getting anywhere? Opening his eyes was the same as keeping them closed. It felt like he was dressed – a detail that had never come to mind before – and breathing... breathing was normal – his lungs expanded and contracted – but he couldn't hear anything.

 

This was like when the Shadow at the hotel was in his head. He firmed up and reached for his Personas, grabbed for whatever he could.

 

Whatever had happened, however he got here, he wasn't going through _that_ again.

 

Footsteps approached. Either boots or hard shoes, coming from the left. Minato turned as much as he could, and the black and grey began to form into an indistinct haze.

 

"You shouldn't try so hard," a familiar voice told him. "We don't have very long to talk."

 

Pharos. It was definitely his voice, but it sounded different this time. Older? Clearer? There was a gravity there that had been missing, even when the kid freaked out over the Appriser stuff during their last meeting.

 

"What's going on? Where am I?" Minato asked. The words came out reluctantly, like his jaw was wired shut.

 

The haze gathered, becoming a bit clearer, but the boy and his pajamas were missing. It was larger than the kid had ever been, too. About as tall as Minato himself. "That's not important right now." Pharos sounded sad. Genuinely sad, rather than the attempt at sad he'd displayed when Shinjiro-senpai died.

 

Minato's head cleared enough that last night's fight came to mind. The fight and everything wrong with it. "It _is_ important. We were led on and lied to about the Shadows, weren't we? What happened with the one last night? What was that thing I felt? Why did you keep telling me to kill the Shadows? Did you know about this?"

 

"What happened was supposed to happen. You did what you were meant to do."

 

Minato paused. Pharos sounded serious. That felt significant, and it made him go cold all over. What was going on? "Who decided that? Who said I was meant to do any of this?" No answer. "Why did the Shadow want to die? It kept referring to 'her,' like she's a god or something. Who was it talking about? And what the hell did I do to kill it?"

 

"All of this was put into place before you came back here. You became a part of this before you... before _we_ had a choice."

 

"How? Why?"

 

"The old guy and the funny lady," Pharos continued, apparently ignoring the question, "they want you to try and make things right. To do that you had to keep killing Shadows, which was what you were supposed to do anyway. You've always had the means to kill them, right from the start. You're just becoming aware of it, because of your meeting with that other guy. That's what you felt."

 

Minato clenched his teeth. He'd been used, a pawn moved by an invisible hand, and his best efforts had left him powerless to change anything. So far. "You didn't answer my question. Who is behind all of this? Why did the Shadow want to die? Because of 'her'? If you know all this, why didn't you tell me? Were we ever supposed to succeed, or we were set up to fail?"

 

A long pause. "You might have been. It's too early to say. You're close to the end of all this, but the old man and the funny lady think you can change things." Pharos sounded dubious.

 

Minato pushed harder. "Is that what you think? Why is it too early to tell? We've come this far already, haven't we?"

 

Pharos paused again, and there was weight to the silence. "I don't know. What's coming now... It's huge, Brother. Bigger than anything you've fought before."

 

"What's coming? The last Shadow?"

 

"Yes, that's coming. But I mean something else."

 

"You mean the thing the Shadow showed me? The 'her' it kept referring to?"

 

Another pause, and this time their surroundings wavered, like the water they were is had caught a current. "I can't answer that. You'll learn soon, but you'll be on your own."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"I have to go now." He sounded regretful but resolved. Completely unlike a child. "I can't help you anymore. I've done what I'm supposed to do and now I have to move on."

 

Minato began to shake. This wasn't just a phantom kid finding a playmate and going away. Something serious was about to happen. "Why? Move on where? What's your part in this?"

 

"Stay close to the bright lady, Brother." Pharos sounded further away now. "I know it will be difficult, but she's your best hope. Her and all your friends. And... try not to fight too hard; it will only hurt more."

 

"What does that mean?"

 

"It means you're–"

 

"–risato!"

 

"Wait, what d–"

 

"Arisato!"

 

Minato jerked awake. His shoulders and wrists had cramped up. His shoulders because he was sprawled on something hard. And his wrists because they were tied behind his back. Familiar wrongness pressed in on him, and cold realization beaded on his skin and trickled down his back: The Dark Hour. The Dark Hour still existed, and when he opened his eyes he confirmed he was in Tartarus, on a balcony overlooking the city, underneath that bright twisted moon.

 

He struggled and pushed himself up. He didn't have his Evoker, and his Personas felt sluggish, but he wasn't taking this lying down. Pharos could warn against being hurt, but whatever was coming, Minato wanted to see it face to face.

 

"Are you awake?" Akihiko-senpai asked, bound and kneeling nearby.

 

"I think so," Minato replied, trying to clear his head of whatever had been used to knock him out. "What's going on?"

 

"There's a problem," Akihiko-senpai commented, his voice tight. "Kind of a big one."

 

That didn't sound promising. The boxer wasn't known for his sarcasm, so when he was cracking wise, things had to be bad. "What sort of problem?" Minato asked. The answer to that question presented itself, and he hissed in surprise. Several yards away were Aigis, standing with blank eyes, and Ikutsuki, who wore the smile that belonged to a psychopathic Cheshire Cat.

 

Minato remembered Yukari's unconscious form, Aigis sneaking up behind him. From how he felt, she must have drugged him. Seeing his cybernetic companion made his blood boil.

 

"You're awake, Arisato," the director noted. "Excellent. Now we can begin."

 

Minato glanced around, noting that the others were all bound and kneeling the same as him. Mitsuru-senpai, Yukari, Fuuka, everyone except Koromaru was accounted for. "Begin what?" Minato asked, trying for lightness until he could find a way out of the restraints. They seemed to be zip ties, and they dug into wrists when he moved his hands. "This wasn't necessary, you know. If you wanted a meeting, I would have come if you'd asked. I'm sure the others would have done the same."

 

"I'm certain you would have, but it's not me who wants to speak to you," Ikutsuki purred, sounding disturbingly similar to Sakaki. "Aigis here had a concern about you, and this was the best way to handle the matter without any distractions."

 

The pieces clicked together. The person who could best lead them on, someone who was under investigation for Shinjiro-senpai's death, for Ken's breakdown. Someone who could tip Strega off to the team's activities, who could hinder any investigation into Strega's whereabouts, and who could misinform SEES from the best place possible. Ikutsuki had lied to them right from the start because he'd _always_ been the enemy, and he could operate in the Dark Hour without a Persona but stay in the background because no one expected him to fight.

 

Minato clenched his fists so hard they shook. True to form, Sakaki had been telling the truth the entire time. Minato hadn't given it any credit because the truth was too terrible to entertain, but this had been in front of them the entire time.

 

Yet another manipulator pulling his strings.

 

"The others will not be harmed," Aigis asserted. "This is about Minato-san, and him alone."

 

"That's a little hard to believe, considering where we are, Aigis!" Junpei shouted.

 

"Of course," Ikutsuki placated her, "but the others would have interfered if you had only abducted him. This way we can be sure your assumptions are correct."

 

"What are you talking about?" Mitsuru-senpai spat, her voice trembling with anger. "What's so important that you ambushed all of us, drugged us, and dragged us here? Aigis, Ikutsuki had a hand in Shinjiro's death, in Amada's mental breakdown. He's been the contact for Strega, and he might have orchestrated all of this from the very beginning! He's a traitor! Why are you working with him?!"

 

"This is necessary," the android intoned. "There is a threat in SEES that I cannot overlook anymore. I regret that I must do this, but there is no other choice. Last night's events have proven that to me, so I will do what I have to."

 

"Aigis, snap out of it!" Minato shouted. "Do you know who you are trusting right now? Everything Mitsuru-senpai said is true. If you work with Ikutsuki, you're serving his goals instead of your own. He's lying to you the same as he did us!"

 

"Harsh words, Minato-kun," Ikutsuki rebuked, his eyes alight with amusement. "And incredibly narrow minded. To say I have lied is simply not correct."

 

"But you set Shinjiro-senpai up, didn't you?" Minato pressed, his head clearing with each word. "That episode with Ken was your idea, wasn't it? Did you talk to Takaya too? Him being there was too convenient to have happened without help, and you could sit back and let it all happen once the pieces were in place."

 

Junpei growled hatefully, struggling against his bonds without success.

 

"Is that true?" Akihiko-senpai demanded. "Ikutsuki, if you've been working with Strega – if you had _anything_ to do with Shinji dying – I swear to God I'll rip your spine out!"

 

"Such words from children," Ikutsuki noted disapprovingly. "You wouldn't understand if I explained it to you. But this is not about me, as I said. Aigis is the one who came to me with concerns, and that is what we are addressing."

 

"It was Aigis's idea to tie us up and bring us up here?" Minato shot back. "Forgive me if I don't believe you."

 

"It is true," the android replied simply, cutting off any protest. "I went to Ikutsuki-san with a concern, and he gave me advice that I operated on. He made suggestions and gave information, but the decision was all mine. It was last night's fight, how Minato-san killed the Shadow, that confirmed my course of action."

 

"How did that confirm anything? What are you talking about?"

 

"Minato-san, what do you know about the Persona you used?"

 

Minato shivered. She wasn't asking out of mere interest; there was a threat in there. He didn't want to summon them without his Evoker, remembering all too well what had happened last time, but he quickly began to go over how he did it while trying to buy time. "You asked me that question before. I already told you, I don't know anything about it."

 

"That does not surprise me, yet it is reason for concern. What about the title of the Appriser? You mentioned it last night. When did you hear it first? What does it mean to you?"

 

"If you're asking, that means you know something," Mitsuru-senpai inferred. "That's been at the core of our investigation ever since we heard the word. If you knew something then maybe whatever you're trying to do could be avoided. Maybe we could have helped you! Why did you keep it secret?"

 

"Minato-san's secrets are far worse than any I might have had, Mitsuru-san," Aigis insisted fervently. "You and he demanded that we be forthright, but he has kept this to himself when it is a danger to everyone. As the leader of SEES, he has been placed into a position that is beyond inquiry or reproach, yet he has the worst secrets of anyone here. I will not excuse this."

 

"Even if that's the case," Yukari protested, "does that justify what you're doing right now? You don't have to do this – you're one of us."

 

"You do know something then," Minato concluded. "And you're willing to go this far because of what you know. You're right. There's more going on than what I've said, because I didn't know what any of it meant. Let's work together on this. Tell me what you know so we can get some answers. You won't have to work with Ikutsuki in that case."

 

"I cannot," Aigis replied, loading her arm-mounted gun. The belt of ammo looked fresh, like she'd come ready for a fight. "The threat is greater than what I can allow to continue. I wasn't certain before, but I am now." She pointed the weapon at Minato, eyes narrowing.

 

Minato's heart stopped, realizing how serious she was.

 

"You're not serious!" Akihiko-senpai snapped. "Cut this shit out, Aigis! If you kill him, you can't ever take it back, and he's our best shot at understanding what's going on!"

 

"I cannot ignore this," she intoned, her arm rock steady. "He spoke of another Shadow, one that is unaccounted for. In this he is correct. It is a Shadow that will grow stronger if it is not dealt with. I must defeat it now."

 

"What does that have to do with Arisato?!" Akihiko-senpai demanded. "And how do you know this if we don't?!"

 

"He's not a Shadow, Aigis," Fuuka protested, pale and still apparently suffering from her migraine. "He's been on our side from the very beginning. He's been fighting the other Shadows, not helping them."

 

"Killing the others is what this Shadow is meant to do," Aigis informed them, her body glowing blue. "It must be destroyed before it can become stronger."

 

Minato clenched his teeth. He was out of time. He wasn't sure if his body could handle another Evoker-less summoning, but he had no choice. If he did nothing, she was going to kill him.

 

"Stop this, Aigis!" a new voice commanded.

 

"Father?!" Mitsuru-senpai looked aghast. "What are you doing here?!"

 

"Ikutsuki's using you," the chairman declared. "Whatever he's told you, whatever answers you think are true, they're fabrications. If you do this, things will only end up worse."

 

"A baseless accusation, sir," Ikutsuki noted, pulling a handgun from inside his suit. "I have always been loyal to the Kirijo cause."

 

Kirijo-san froze, glaring at his subordinate like one would a viper. "That would be Kirijo Kouetsu, wouldn't it?"

 

Ikustuki's smile twisted. "Ahh, a fine observation."

 

"It is irrelevant," Aigis asserted, the gun barrels spinning. "My mission demands this."

 

Minato straightened his arms, feeling his strongest Persona burn hot in his chest and race through bone and muscle. The air rang and shimmered around him, and the instant before the bullets fired at him, a Persona erupted before him. Bullets broke against a barrier, and his bonds snapped like ribbon. He rolled to the side, trying to get away from the others and keep them out of the crossfire.

 

Blue light and a firm voice made him stop in place: _"Palladion."_

 

Minato's Persona, barely formed, stood between him and the oncoming attack. Palladion struck like a cannon shot, blowing Minato's Persona into blue light.

 

Minato grit his teeth against the feedback, but everything hurt a lot less this time. That or he was going the shred himself without feeling it this time, but he was dead either way.

 

Palladion's servos whirred into motion, powering up for its next strike. The only warning as it moved faster than the eye could follow.

 

Minato dove to the side as the massive lance tore up the ground. He focused down the pathways of his body and pulled up another Persona. In the summoning's blue light he saw something that hadn't been on Palladion before: the red ribbon from Psyche, Metis's Persona.

 

Aigis had talked about linking with her sister to find out what had gone wrong. It seemed that wasn't all that had happened. More deceit. Another lie. Minato hated that it had come down to this.

 

His mind analyzed the situation, unhelpfully showing him just what he was up against. Aigis knew how he fought, what Personas he had, and had stripped him of his sword and Evoker. Palladion behaved differently from before, and Aigis had always been a hard opponent to overcome during practice. Now she was directing that inhuman will against him with the full intent to kill.

 

 And he was fighting alone. No way was he involving the others in this.

 

Palladion charged him, spear flashing forward, and he blocked it as quickly as he could. His shield shattered as fast as it went up. The impact drove him back and down, creaking his bones. The force was incredible, and he knew, through the fear and battle rush, that he couldn't face it for long. He bolted to the side, his barriers blocking Aigis's bullets as she aimed to kill. Palladion charged him again, and only training with Shinjiro-senpai and facing Castor's immense strength kept Minato on his feet.

 

All he could do was dodge and run, though. He couldn't fight on two fronts, and Aigis was a perfect combatant with Palladion: an up-front Persona that could attack and defend at the same time, and a User that could lay down barrages of gunfire from afar.

 

In the split-seconds he had to think, he was infinitely grateful that she didn't have her grenade launcher.

 

Minato ducked under another strike, pulling lightning from as deep as he could and blasting Palladion with everything he had. It was a machine, so surely–

 

Psyche's ribbon glowed brightly, and a halo of rose-coloured light bore the lightning without faltering. The bright flash faded and the Persona stood untouched, protected by its sister's gift.

 

Minato stared. Even _that_ weakness was covered.

 

His Persona dove in front of him, taking Palladion's lance and breaking into light. Minato shook his head and ran, truly out of options. From the corner of his tunnelled vision, he saw Kirijo-san standing between Ikutuski and Mitsuru-senpai.

 

He dove to the side, trying to get an angle of attack or find an escape. Nothing presented itself. Palladion struck like an avalanche, defeating a Persona before it was fully formed, and then impaling another. Minato was soaked in sweat as he moved. His stock wasn't limitless, and he couldn't react fast enough to fight back. He tumbled and rolled again and again, deflecting so he didn't have to block head-on. He came to his feet when the horrified scream of _"FATHER!"_ rang over the din of the battle. Minato's head snapped up at Mitsuru-senpai's voice.

 

Everything slowed down.

 

Ikutsuki grinned, gun smoking.

 

Kirijo-san was doubled over, holding his stomach and slowly backing toward his daughter. Mitsuru-senpai up against him, one hand free and desperately trying to staunch the bleeding.

 

The image came into hyper-focus. Every one of Minato's senses went into overdrive, calling up a terrible memory.

 

 _"MINATO!"_ Minako had screamed, trying to shield his body from the impact.

 

The feel of the Dark Hour, the smell of gunpowder and the sound of a Persona. Aigis standing aglow, prepared to fight. This time, the missing piece fit into place: A body, and the sight of human blood.

 

 _"DAD!"_ She'd shouted.

 

Ten years vanished. Past and present superimposed. The sound of car brakes, the _crunch_ of crashing into something so horrible his mind couldn't process it.

 

Minato clutched his head, the memory clear before him and real as life. The veil pulled back, and the terror of that night slammed into him. Every day since then flashed through his mind on fast forward, repressed feelings bombarding him without mercy. The loss of his parents, the death of his sister, came back. The weight of her body across his in the back seat. Dad crushed by the steering column punching back. Mom's bleeding face and weak, rasping breaths. She hadn't died fast.

 

 _"My family died when I was eight,"_ he heard himself say. _"It doesn't bother me anymore."_

 

He'd said that.

 

He'd _meant_ it.

 

For years.

 

The impact of what he'd lost hadn't gotten through to him. Something had kept it back until now. Self-loathing overwhelmed him. His family had died and he'd brushed it off like a rainy day. Every blasé quip tasted like acid. Every good memory twisted like glass screws. Every birthday, every moment of laughter. Every time he cried in Minako's arms, every time he couldn't sleep until his parents got home.

 

It was torment like nothing he'd ever felt. Shredding his body couldn't come close.

 

A decade of pain and grief flowed through him, pulled him toward the abyss. He stopped when his feet touched the edge, white-hot with fury in the darkness, eyes on his enemy.

 

"My parents," he whispered, tears cold on his cheeks. "My sister," he gritted. "Ten years ago. You were there."

 

Palladion had been about to lunge again. It stopped. Aigis cocked her head, her arm lowering a fraction.

 

"You were there when they died, weren't you?!" he thundered. Power raced through him, ringing blue in the air, every restraint torn apart. "Why?!"

 

"I didn't hurt them," she replied quietly. "Their deaths were a tragic accident. I had nothing to do with them."

 

"You're telling me this now?! That was my _family_ , Aigis! Tell me why you didn't say anything!"

 

She was silent. Palladion glowed even brighter, its servos clicking into place. "I cannot answer that. So you know, I have not forgotten their deaths. But for the sake of everyone, I must kill you, and I will bear this burden for as long as I am functional." Blue eyes hardened, gun snapping back to centre-of-mass. "But I will not fail again." Palladion rushed forward in a blinding streak.

 

Minato bent every fibre of his being into the fight. He didn't hear the others, didn't see Ikutsuki slip away, didn't even think of dodging.

 

He didn't think of living past this fight – nothing else mattered.

 

Every Persona in his arsenal arose. Rangda fought like a demon, hammering against Palladion's shield. Atropos's winds whipped out like a bullet train, slamming the knight so hard Psyche's barrier wavered.

 

Minato kept behind them, watching as Aigis tried to line up her shots. The bullets shattered on his barriers, but they were dead-centre on him.

 

Palladion revved so high its gears were glowing orange. It fought back with fury, crashing through Minato's Personas without its usual precision, hammering against Attis. The concussions of their blows cracked the floor under them.

 

Minato was wearing Palladion down, but he was out of cards to play. This had become a fight of endurance, and that was his last Persona.

 

He grinned angrily, phantom cards glowing around him. There had to be something left. He'd seen Igor fuse Personas enough times. He could bring out more. There _had_ to be more, another angle to attack from.

 

But he was out of time.

 

Aigis's gunfire and Palladion's shield bash sent his last Persona screaming into the void. Minato stood trembling, his whole body sore from his summonings. He couldn't run anymore, couldn't pull off anymore last-minute dodges. He didn't have the time to figure out how to bring more Personas up, to fuse them into something strong enough to win. She had him pinned and she knew it.

 

The others were out of the line of fire, too far away to be hurt.

 

Too far away to help. He was on his own, had nothing left.

 

Aigis pointed at him.

 

Palladion revved up, cylinders firing, torque spiking.

 

Something... _pulsed_. A second heartbeat, from far below.

 

No. Not nothing. There _was_ something left, something that had always been there. Sakaki and Hypnos had reached it. The fight had stirred it from slumber.

 

Palladion roared forward, lance ready to pierce, to annihilate.

 

Minato fell back into his own mind. His power reversed course. Instead of reaching down to a Persona, he let go of all his control.

 

Something was there to fill the void. To race through his limbs like adrenaline.

 

To go down.

 

Palladion's lance was drawn back–

 

Down.

 

–ready to kill–

 

Into his shadow.

 

–it thrust forward–

 

Minato's hand rose. Stop.

 

_CRUNCH!_

 

Palladion's lance slammed into something solid, stopping the Persona cold. A granite coffin materialized from the darkness, held up like a shield. Palladion's lance had broken into it, but was held at bay.

 

The darkness slowly peeled back from the coffin, revealing more. Chains clinked, and the Dark Hour warped around what emerged.

 

A Persona stood before Minato. One summoned not from blue light, but from pure liquid darkness.

 

Coffins of stone and iron connected with clinking chains. An iron helmet and war mask formed in a visage of inhuman hatred for the living. A sable surcoat over black plate armour, pauldrons and gauntlets scratched from innumerable killings. A long sword held in hand, curved like the Reaper's scythe. Steel-shod boots that led to a pool of black at its feet.

 

An unstoppable force made manifest. An entity that cast darkness upon the Dark Hour itself.

 

One needed only look upon it to know it, to _fear_ it, for it was the harbinger of the end of all things.

 

 Power surrounded this Persona, so great it crackled against the skin, pushing against reality and buckling the stones underfoot. It stood against Palladion, fully formed, growling in rage.

 

To name it was to know it. Minato's last Persona, which had been sleeping all this time.

 

That which had annihilated the Shadow the night before.

 

"Thanatos."

 

The Persona growled louder, furious at being used by one of the _living_ but awaiting its summoner's commands.

 

Aigis backed away, looking at the Persona in unmistakable terror. Whatever was human inside her knew what this was.

 

Minato smirked. He knew too: It was the end.

 

"Break them."

 

Thanatos crashed forward, sending the coffin Palladion's lance was stuck in to the side to leave the armoured Persona open. Palladion backpedaled, dodging while it struggled to regain control of its weapon. Its servos worked to orange-hot again to struggle against Thanatos.

 

The two were in a deadlock, their weapons locked together like dueling swordsmen.

 

Then Thanatos lashed out. Steel and stone coffins smashed down like colossal fists, hammering into Palladion and denting its shield. Thanatos cut at the Persona with its sword without any semblance of style or grace. It aimed not to protect itself, but to kill as brutally as it could. When Palladion blocked its swings, the coffins came down again, and Thanatos punched with a steel-clad fist whenever there was an opening.

 

Graceless and savage. Perfect defense and attack, like Palladion, only stronger.

 

Gunfire erupted from the side, and Minato stepped back instinctively, barriers in place. But Aigis wasn't firing at him; she was firing on Thanatos. Stitching the Persona's helmet and aiming for its eyes, trying to get its attention away from Palladion, to create an opening, or focus-firing where she thought Thanatos's armour was weak.

 

It was useless. Thanatos didn't need eyes to see its prey, to kill what was before it, even if she could hit them. Minato fed all his power to the Persona, pushing it forward as it struck Palladion even harder.

 

Yet she focused on Thanatos. Minato examined her movements and realized she was missing her footing in places, over-correcting when she fired, and becoming frantic as Thanatos ignored her attacks.

 

Minato knew what was driving her: Pure human fear.

 

She'd wanted to kill him before he could fight back. Was this why? Had she fought this Persona before and she was terrified of doing it again?

 

More questions without answers. Minato didn't care now. She had his family's blood on her hands. She needed to pay.

 

Palladion released its lance, letting the weapon flash out of existence and manifesting it an instant later, trying to regain its advantage. Thanatos barrelled forward. Coffins opened and spat more chains out, tangling Palladion's shield and lance together. Thanatos rushed in with coffins first, protecting itself and hitting like a wall going mach 2. The titans crashed into the walls of Tartarus, struggling and destroying everything around them. Palladion's servos smoked as it fought back while Thanatos brought the pommel of its sword down over and over, denting the mechanical knight's helmet and showing glowing circuitry underneath.

 

Aigis raced forward, trying to distract Thanatos with more gunfire.

 

The Persona seemed wise to her tactics this time. A coffin faced her and whipped chains out, aiming to grab or to destroy. She leapt out of the way, but the ground buckled where she'd stood a half-second before. She didn't dare fire now, trying to stay ahead of a Persona that could fight two enemies at once with ease.

 

Two chains flew at her, and she dodged with a backward jump.

 

Into the next attack.

 

Thanatos's sword flew at her like a spear, fired from the coffin's innards faster than the chains. She couldn't move in midair, and her gun-arm was severed above the elbow. The sword cut halfway into Tartarus's floor while cybernetic fluid showered the ground.

 

Aigis crashed down, tumbling on the ground and clenching her stump. She looked up in hopelessness as Palladion's coherence began to break up.

 

Thanatos hit even harder, breaking a coffin on Palladion's chest then hammering it with the stone fragments. The mechanical knight was beaten down, a hand raised in the beginnings of surrender.

 

Thanatos wouldn't have it.

 

The Persona grabbed Palladion's upraised hand and yanked up, chains grabbing about its torso, legs and head. Then the titan began to twist and wrench apart, flexing hard, bending reality in its fury.

 

With a grinding, sickening wrench, Palladion was torn in two.

 

Blight light flashed as the Persona died, and Thanatos screamed its victory to the night, a sound so powerful that the light around it dimmed and shuddered.

 

Aigis rolled to her feet and raced toward Minato, her remaining hand clenched. An android could still kill a human, even if she died in the process.

 

Thanatos turned and roared. Two stone coffins shattered and fragments flew at her almost as fast as the sword had.

 

Aigis dodged two of them before larger ones hit her hard. One in the hip and two in the back sent her tumbling, legs akimbo, struggling to get up.

 

The fight was over.

 

Minato stepped toward her. Thanatos loomed over him, the Persona having faded from where it had fought Palladion and manifested out of his shadow again. Power flickered around his fingertips. Power that could tear Aigis apart and end this, end the lies, for good this time.

 

She looked up at him, fear and pain in her eyes. She looked at him, then at Thanatos, and then down.

 

She raised her remaining arm. "I surrender," she whispered. She sounded more human than ever before. Utterly defeated and without hope.

 

Thanatos growled. Minato couldn't believe what he'd heard. "You what?"

 

She repeated herself. "Fighting now is meaningless. You have already done what I had hoped to prevent you from doing," she continued.

 

"You obviously knew that I could do this," Minato grated through his anger. "You put me in a corner and tried to kill me, and now you want me to spare you?"

 

"I never wanted you to use that thing." She looked up at Thanatos as it loomed over her, glaring balefully. "It is a monster beyond description. I cannot defeat it now, and I do not want to be terminated. I surrender to you."

 

Minato saw red. Thanatos wanted to crush her into the floor. "You drugged me, dragged me here, and tried to kill me," Minato listed off. "You consorted with Ikutsuki when you had to know he couldn't be trusted. You knew that, right?"

 

She nodded. "I did. The threat of the Shadows, of Thanatos, demanded that I ignore Ikutsuki."

 

"And you came after me instead. What will you do if I spare you? You've kept secrets and lied to me up to this point, and after this, I'll never trust you with my back again."

 

"I am not a threat to you."

 

"Not a threat now that you tried to kill me and wound up losing?!" he snapped. "Well that makes this all better, doesn't it? You kept what happened to my family a secret. You were there when they died, and you knew I had this Persona in me, but you stayed silent and then you try to kill me? What's stopping you from trying again?"

 

"There would be no point. The damage was done once you summoned that. I cannot reverse it, and I cannot win." She didn't meet his eyes. She didn't move. She held her stump of an arm as it leaked darkening fluids and waited for his answer.

 

Thanatos loomed. Darkness gathered. Minato's hands glowed with malevolent purple light. Aigis had been an ally, but now she was a traitor. A threat. An _enemy_.

 

Helpless or not, enemies didn't deserve to live.

 

He drew his hand back.

 

"Stop!" Fuuka shouted, throwing herself in front of him. "Please, stop."

 

"Get out of the way, Fuuka," Minato warned, Thanatos growling even deeper now. Light dimmed around them, darkness ready to release. "She's not one of us anymore."

 

There were tears on her cheeks. "I-I know that."

 

"Then move."

 

"I... I can't."

 

The Persona's pressure amplified. Minato stepped up to her, eyes narrow. "Fuuka," he told her coldly. " _Move._ "

 

Enemies were to be eliminated. Collaborators deserved no better.

 

She looked up as the tears ran, trembling, reaching out to touch his hand. "Please stop this, Minato-kun. This isn't who you are."

 

His teeth grated. Minako said the same thing when he acted out or said something cruel. She told him he wasn't being who he was and that he'd hurt himself and others that way.

 

The Minako of his memories bled, lost in the darkness of a decade ago. How dare Fuuka make light of that? How _dare she_?! Minato clenched his fits, power surging–

 

Then he heard something past Thanatos, past the adrenaline and battle fury. Even through Aigis's betrayal: Crying. He looked toward the sound and saw Mitsuru-senpai clutching her father to her chest, face lowered over him and sobs wracking her body.

 

The wrath dropped out of him like a bucket with a cut bottom. He saw his companions, dirty and freed but looking at him warily and trying to comfort their leader. He saw Kirijo-san's body and knew that life had left him forever. He felt his Personas stirring again, some of which could have healed the wound enough to get medical help. And he felt the bloodlust of the creature above him, how it was hated and feared by the living, how it hated the living in kind and wanted them to suffer.

 

No. That was just an excuse. The desire to fight had been magnified by Thanatos, but Personas were aspects of their summoners. This was him. It had come from him. He'd fought to kill instead of to a standstill, and this was what his fury had wrought.

 

Something done in anger that he could never take back.

 

He stepped away from Aigis, the glow around his hands flickering to nothing. Thanatos growled at him, knowing that he'd come to a stop, but a snap of Minato's fingers dissipated its form and sent it back beneath the sea of his soul. "You owe Fuuka your life," he told Aigis raggedly, the tears fighting to get free. He kept them down; they could wait until the others were safe. "This is the only chance you're getting. If you ever fight me again, I'll melt you into slag. I don't care who gets in my way, I'll finish you off. Am I clear?"

 

"I understand," Aigis answered, head still down.

 

"Thank you, Minato-kun," Fuuka told him.

 

He didn't respond. The battle rush was gone, he'd left his allies behind, and he felt so hollow that he wanted to fall apart. The memories returned, voices of his family cutting into his psyche. The present was no solace. The girl dearest to him cried over her father, and he didn't dare go near her.

 

He didn't have any right to comfort.

 

There was one thing he could do, he knew. Something to protect his people from the Shadows and the Dark Hour.  He wordlessly stepped toward them, brought Cu Sith up from his soul, and focused. Tartarus wavered around them as he brought them back to the base of the tower.

 

Minato knew he could have helped Kirijo-san. He could have done something to change this.

 

He'd failed. Then and now.

 

The Dark Hour ended, and for the first time ever Minato wished he'd stayed in that God-forsaken tower.

 

He walked away. "I'm leaving this to you, Akihiko-senpai," he informed the boxer. "Sorry to drop it in your lap."

 

"Where're you going?" the older teen demanded.

 

Minato smiled hollowly. "Look after them. I'll be back later." He left, deaf to the protests of the others. They had too much to deal with between Aigis and Mitsuru-senpai to follow him, so he made his escape into the city. Down the streets without seeing them, no idea where he was going, but when the lights of a familiar storefront caught his eye, he adjusted his course. He trudged down streets and cut through alleys where even the delinquents wouldn't go, and kept walking.

 

\---

 

Ikutsuki stopped his ascent in Tartarus to catch his breath. Not from exertion, but from laughter that he couldn't keep down any longer.

 

And why should he hold it back? Everything had gone even better than he could have planned. SEES had been operating as he intended since Shinjiro died, Aigis's grudge against Arisato had come at the perfect time, and even Arisato's glimpse at the truth was a delicious bit of irony that he couldn't help but make the most of.

 

Then there had been the little drama just minutes ago. Takeharu-san interfering, jumping in the way of the gun aimed at Mitsuru; Arisato breaking free of his bonds and fighting Aigis; and, perhaps the greatest development of all, the "little secret" under the surface of Arisato's psyche that had finally come out.

 

Truly, everything had played out better than he could have dreamed. A nudge here and a word there and everyone danced to the tune of The End perfectly. It was a fitting tribute to Kouetsu-sama, bringing everyone this far only for them to break apart.

 

And to think – there was still more to come before She arrived. Ikutsuki couldn't hold back his mirth, thinking of how SEES must be flailing about right now. Would that he could have seen how the fight between Arisato and Aigis concluded. The anger and mistrust, the misdirected passions crashing together as their Personas did battle, it was hard to imagine a greater reward for his hard work than that.

 

Still, he knew better. There had been no way to arrange such a fight while remaining in the background as he had. And truly, who the victor was didn't matter. If Aigis won – highly unlikely given how she'd failed once before – then SEES would banish her from their ranks, and be blind to Her arrival. If Arisato won, then SEES would mistrust him for unleashing so much power against their comrade, would be afraid of what he'd been hiding from them, and they would fracture and despair. Mitsuru especially, and Arisato after from caring for her. And either way, the Kirijo Group and SEES would be left flailing about as it tried to hold itself together.

 

This evening had been delicious. Hopefully he'd be able to see the results in the coming weeks.

 

Ikutsuki continued up another floor, utilizing the techniques Kouetsu-sama had taught him all those years ago. The little tricks that allowed him to operate in the Dark Hour, to avoid Shadows without developing a Persona. Tricks Kouetsu-sama had taught his ungrateful son, but that had led to a great satisfaction all by itself. It brought another chuckle to his lips.

 

"I told you there was someone here," a hard, familiar voice said when Ikutsuki turned a corner. "Not sure what good it does us."

 

"Very little," the other one noted dismissively, hand by the revolver in his belt.

 

Shirato Jin. Takaya Sakaki. Strega.

 

Ikutsuki smiled. This was perfect. With so much work to do, he would need help. Truly, providence provided for the patient and the loyal.

 

"What are you doing here?" Shirato asked, looking like he didn't much care about the answer.

 

"SEES and the Kirijo Group have outlived their usefulness to me," Ikutsuki told them. There was no need to hide the truth, not when they could pick out his lies. "I have moved on from them."

 

"Betrayed them, you mean," Sakaki noted. "The final time, yes?"

 

"That's a matter of perspective," Ikutsuki replied, indifferent to the semantics. "And is irrelevant besides. This meeting brings something to mind. In particular, how we can help each other."

 

"You just double-crossed your last employer, and you want us to trust you?" Shirato spat. "Without the Kirijo's resources, without being able to cover your tracks anymore, what good are you to us?"

 

Ikutsuki frowned. "My loyalty has never been in question. It was never to the Kirijo Group, or to SEES, so I haven't betrayed anyone. And you have benefitted from my help all this time, haven't you?"

 

"My point still stands – you aren't much good to us now that they've cut you loose, are you? How can you get us what we need on your own?"

 

"I still have connections outside of the Kirijo Group, resources that I can utilize to your benefit, and to mine."

 

"Perhaps," Sakaki mused, thumbing his firearm again. "But it raises the question of why we would need you, even with those resources. Your goals and ours might be quite different now that the Shadows are dead."

 

"You're giving up the fight? I thought you would like the chance to fight Arisato and the Kirijo some more."

 

Sakaki's eyes narrowed, the sudden glow around him blindingly bright. "Do not presume to speak to us about our intentions," he warned dangerously, his voice overlapped with his Persona's. "Our goals are our own. No matter how useful a contact you were, we will not be your pawns."

 

Ikutsuki cleared his throat backing up a step and holding up his hands, conciliatory. "Of course. A poor choice of words. Still, I would think you might be interested in how things have developed. Your interest in Arisato in particular, surely that has not disappeared because the Shadows are dead."

 

"I can investigate such matters without your help," Sakaki told him, eyes dimming but still dangerous.

 

"What if you don't need to? Even if you don't believe everything I say, I can give you a place to start and save you time."

 

"And in return, you want our help? To protect you from the Shadows and help you so you can help us further?"

 

"In part, yes. But my goals will interest you whether you help me or not."

 

"Then speak."

 

"Arisato has evolved. Namely, that little something you felt after you fought Aragaki. That was you coming into contact with him, wasn't it?"

 

Sakaki frowned, thoughtful. Still glowing, but now thoughtful. "How could you have known that?"

 

"SEES confided in me back then. And I know a great deal about Personas and Shadows. It was an easy deduction to make, given how you two are connected."

 

"What would you know about that? He wasn't at the Kirijo labs ten years ago, and his Personas aren't artificial."

 

Ikutsuki bit back a grin. Sakaki had clearly thought about this, his bond from nowhere with the strange transfer student. Without a clear connection or point of origin, there was nothing to chase down, yet the questions still remained unanswered. "It's a question of source," Ikutsuki explained, gesturing to the two Strega members. "Moros. Hypnos." Then he pointed back to where Arisato and the others were. "Thanatos."

 

Shirato was impassive, the names not meaning anything to him. Sakaki, on the other hand, looked startled as understanding dawned on him. "How could that be?"

 

"It was Her design. Not that it be you and Arisato – the hosts were coincidental at best – but those powers awakening as the Shadows rampaged through the Dark Hour, here, where Kouetsu-sama conducted his experiments, is no mistake. Arisato lived here when the experiments failed ten years ago, yet he returned in time to fight the Shadows when they were at their strongest. You traveled Japan for years but came back now, when SEES became active. And the Lost have only grown in number in the last year. This is not luck."

 

"Suppose it isn't," Shirato interjected. "What makes you think we care? Even if this is all tied together, and even if we are a part of whatever's coming, why should we get involved? Two train tickets and we're out of here."

 

Ikutsuki let the answer hang for the moment, knowing that he'd caught Sakaki's attention. Shirato's bluster might well be genuine, and it would only show that he wasn't close to Moros, thus making him a secondary player in this game. But Sakaki and Hypnos were linked like few others, and that had to count for something.

 

"If we leave, then we lose our answers," Sakaki noted finally. "Assuming you aren't lying, that is."

 

"You can see for yourself. The next few weeks will show you better than I can explain it. And Arisato will not be the same after tonight. Another meeting is all you would need to confirm what I have said."

 

"The three children of Nyx," Sakaki mused, speaking Her name hesitantly. "Harbingers of the end of all life. She is the one you speak of?"

 

"She is. I suspect that you have felt Her?"

 

"Only since this morning. It has been... unsettling."

 

Ikutsuki bit back a sense of envy. Without a Persona, and without the means to acquire one now, he would never feel Her approach, the oncoming divinity that Kouetsu-sama had so passionately spoken of. If there was one regret Ikutsuki bore because of his choices, that was it.

 

Sakaki's eyes focused. "What part do you play in all this? Why do you care about Nyx and us?"

 

A foolish question, though many people would ask it in Sakaki's place. "I was Kouetsu-sama's right hand. His work became mine. I need no other reason, do I?"

 

"What are you planning?"

 

"For now, I need to establish my connections with some people. I said I can be of use to you, and I will. After that, I want to see what the Kirijo Group will do now that it has lost its leader. I expect there will be chaos, the sort we can take advantage of."

 

Shirato perked up. "The Kirijo boss is dead?"

 

"He is."

 

Shirato grunted, a grudging smile crossing his face.

 

Sakaki seemed distracted, then looked at Ikutsuki. "Your talk of Nyx and Her approach, how we're tied together in this larger plan. I assume you believe that Arisato will play a role in this. If you are telling the truth, then he has to."

 

"He won't have a choice, but I don't know what form it will take." Ikutsuki shrugged. "Even if he was central to killing the Shadows, given recent developments I suspect he will operate in a diminished capacity. At his best, his use is spent."

 

Sakaki shook his head, a look on his face resembling contempt. "If you think your plans will stop him, that he will allow your plans to proceed without interfering, you're a fool."

 

"Is that so?"

 

"Yes. You see SEES as puppets on your strings, and without you to make them dance they will fall to the side and stay there. But every fight has made them stronger, and it will take a force greater than treachery to break them. Keep in mind that they all hate you now, and that they can band together without you to interfere. Arisato, Sanada, Kirijo, even Amada are all strong enough to fight you. It would be careless to assume that you have won just because you've stabbed them in the back."

 

Ikutsuki was a little miffed from Sakaki's sudden faith in his enemies. For a killer without a direction in his life, he was surprisingly focused, and his insight into Arisato's character, bordered on offensive. Still, such faith was not insurmountable. Sakaki would see for himself that SEES was finished. And in the event that they could pull themselves together, it would only amount to a more amusing fight when She arrived. "That may well be. Time will tell, won't it?"

 

"It will." Sakaki was silent for a moment longer, then nodded. "You will join us, where we can keep an eye on you, and you will tell us what you know. Your resources are ours, and I expect you to make yourself useful."

 

"Of course."

 

"Much is about to change," Sakaki told them, eyes bright, tattoos shifting. "Whatever Nyx brings with her, Arisato will respond. He will fight, and the others will follow him into Hell itself. I have a feeling things will become... quite extraordinary."

 

\---

 

It had been a retreat for him and 'Nako. She loved it because her friends lived in the area, so this was where they could gather. He loved it because being here made her happy. Dad said that he'd first met Mom walking by a park like this one, and they'd spend their free weekends here with boxed lunches and stories to tell, enjoying their time in a simple, loving existence. As Minato walked to the sand pit, he felt the tears. They'd run onto his cheeks blocks ago and now they were trickling down his neck. Every memory was there, picture perfect for him to remember. From Mom's cooking and her picking him up to put him to bed when he fell asleep in front of the TV to Dad's stories that grew with every telling, but kept him entertained anyway. Minako's botched cooking attempts, how she'd crawl into bed with him when he had nightmares, how she'd help him with his homework even when she had enough of her own. "You're my only brother," she'd say when she got in trouble over her grades, "so of course I'm going to spoil you."

 

Minato's legs gave out. He crumpled into the sand and curled as the sobs came up. He didn't even try to hold them back. A decade of repressing the trauma washed over him, no barriers left to hold it all back. No hiding behind humour, no pretending it was okay. "I-I'm sorry," he let out, brokenly, over and over as the pain twisted without reprieve. The memories continued long after he ran out of tears, and in the dead of night, alone, all he had were his ghosts.

 

 **Author's Note, Postscript:** A bit of interesting trivia: Mordhau is a technique in German swordsmanship, and the word translates into "murder stroke."


	17. Durchwechseln

Author's Notes: Not much needs to be said here, I think, other than that I hope you all enjoy the chapter. Do feel free to leave a comment about which part of the chapter you liked most. Or you can say that the whole thing is amazing. That works too.

 

**Chapter 17 - Durchwechseln**

 

Akihiko didn't like admitting when he was angry. He'd been through enough in his life that getting angry at even the big things would drag him under if he let them. Instead of letting those feelings govern him, he used them as fuel for his exertions. He exercised, he studied, and he looked out for his people instead. Better to get it out than let it fester inside; Miki wouldn't want him to turn bitter.

But right now, rifling through Ikutsuki's office and replaying in his mind the fight at Tartarus the night before, the anger was constant. He felt rage every time he moved. Every time he breathed.

He should have done something. Ikutsuki was just a normal person, and a gun was useless against a Persona. Akihiko saw the evidence, had put the pieces together with Mitsuru, and had the same bad feeling when they fought the Shadow on the bridge. He knew they'd left it too long when they returned from that fight and found Ikutsuki gone. Akihiko had been too worried about the details to skewer the snake in their midst. Now Ikutsuki was beyond reach, Takeharu-san was dead, and Akihiko had been powerless to stop it. It was that lack of power that infuriated him the most; so much had happened in a few minutes and all he could do was watch. Arisato should never have had to fight alone. Mitsuru shouldn't have lost her father. Ikutsuki shouldn't have gotten away when he was _right in front of them_.

He hated this feeling, of having his mistakes dangling in front of him, reminding him what he couldn't do anymore. He'd learned to fight so he wouldn't have to go through it again. He'd given up friendships and girls to never be weak. Yet here he was. Always a step behind and a minute late. Like with Miki. Like with Shinji. Once you miss your chance to make a change, it's gone for good.

Akihiko clenched his fists. Arisato had retreated from them, sneaking into the dorm through the emergency exit and holing himself up in his room. Mitsuru had been at the Kirijo compound since she'd escorted Takeharu-san's body there. Akihiko knew he was in charge of the dorm and the others now, but every time he opened his mouth, he wanted to lash out and scream. If he didn't do something, he'd go insane. So he kept himself busy, chasing leads and getting what answers he could. He'd decided to toss Ikutsuki's office, looking for hints of the bastard's treachery. Anything that could have been noticed earlier, some hint of where he'd gone to, or information on what they were facing now.

He needed something to work with. Because if he'd missed something obvious and the answer had been right in front of him, then he could be angry at himself.

"Any luck?" he asked Yamagishi. She'd offered to help him, citing a need to get away from how quiet the dorm had become. The way she'd winced at his crashing around made him wonder if she was still hurting from that Persona Arisato had used, but she soldiered on without complaint, immediately looking into the files on Ikutsuki's computer.

"Nothing I can use," she replied. "He's got firewalls and collapsible drives in place, and if I even try to get in, they'll probably erase everything. Maybe someone in the Kirijo Group will have more luck."

"I never pegged Ikutsuki as the tech-savvy type. But Shirato's a computer genius. Could he have set this up behind our backs?"

She nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised if he did. It's complex, and someone would need to know just the right passwords to get in. Considering how much Ikutsuki handled the behind-the-scenes stuff, it wouldn't be hard to sneak something in."

Akihiko ground his teeth. "Makes me wonder how far back this goes. How much did Ikutsuki know about the Shadows before we did? Was he connected to Strega right from the start? Were they just useful tools for him?"

"That there's so much security there suggests that his files are important," she observed, looking through the books on the shelves and the Buddha statue. "It could be a deliberate dead end to keep us occupied, but I don't think so. And if there are things he doesn't want us to know despite what we've learned so far, then it's probably relevant to what's going on."

"We'll have to go on that." Akihiko gestured to the bookshelves he'd been combing through. "I'm not seeing anything here that's out of place. Too much to hope for that he'd leave a journal in plain sight, right?"

Yamagishi tried to smile at his attempt at humour. "I think that only happens in movies and video games."

"Probably. But so does the mastermind leaving everything on his computer for us to read when we need it, so don't discount fiction."

Akihiko knew the conversation was going nowhere – what was he supposed to say at a time like this? – and he was saved from more awkwardness by the phone ringing next to him. He was pretty sure he knew who it was, and he wanted to blow the asshole off. Akihiko picked up the receiver, trying not to bark into it. "Iwatodai dorm."

"Yes, I'd like to speak to–"

"Ikutsuki's not here," Akihiko snapped. It was the same pompous idiot who had called four times already today. "I already told you, he left and he's not coming back."

"You're very rude, young man," the speaker noted disapprovingly in a voice that screamed _soft_. "Do you know who you're talking to?"

"Yes, and I don't care. Stop asking about Mitsuru; she's not here either."

"Where can I find her?"

"None of your business."

"Truly, do you know–"

Akihiko snapped. He slammed the phone back into its cradle so hard that it broke in his hand. Then he threw it to the side, wanting it as far away from him as possible, but the cord tore from its socket. The phone whipped across the room and crashed against the wall, shattering in a rain of cheap plastic.

Silence filled the room, and he clenched Ikutsuki's desk. He knew he could throw it too, but he wouldn't. Yamagishi had flinched when the phone exploded into pieces, and he wouldn't put her through a display like that; he'd done enough already. "Sorry about that."

"I-it's okay," she told him, probably not sure what she could say that would or wouldn't set him off.

He himself wasn't sure where that line was right now.

Akihiko let out a breath and rubbed his face. "There's some guy sniffing after Mitsuru. Seems one of Takeharu-san's business partners feels like she should join him to make sure the Kirijo Group remains intact. Best way to seal the deal, apparently, is for her to marry his asshole grandson, who's in his thirties and doesn't know when to stop calling."

Yamagishi's eyes went wide. "An arranged marriage? That's ridiculous. Senpai would never do that."

"Agreed."

"Her father just died," she continued, becoming more indignant. "Doesn't he have any shame?"

"He paid his respects on the first call. Then he started getting pushy. She knows about it and is taking steps to tell him off, but that doesn't stop him from being a pain."

Yamagishi looked at the remains of the phone. "I don't think they'll call us on that anymore."

Akihiko chuckled, the first bit of good humour he'd felt in what seemed like months. His anger let up a little, and that let him focus on another concern he had. "How are you?"

"Me? Um, I'm okay. I'm not breaking phones at the moment."

"I mean your headache. The Shadow. The Persona Arisato used to kill it, and the fight with Aigis. How are you?"

Yamagishi shrank into herself. "Ah. Right."

"You don't have to talk if you don't want to," Akihiko told her. Work was easy to talk about, but he couldn't imagine what she'd gone through when that Persona came out. It was loud and powerful, that much was apparent to him, but Yamagishi sensed these things way stronger than he did, and she'd had a front-row seat to boot. What could he offer when he couldn't begin to perceive the Dark Hour like she did? Still, he would try. "But if there's something I can help with, let me know."

She nodded and was quiet for a few moments before speaking. "Minato-kun said the Shadow showed him something, that it felt far off but coming closer. I think I understand what he's talking about."

He perked up. "Really? You can feel it?"

"Not completely. It's like..." She searched for the words. "It's like when something falls into water and sends out ripples. I think Minato-kun felt the rock and got the whole picture, but for me the water's just beginning to move. Or maybe a better way to put it is feeling the tide change without knowing the timing or the moon's cycles, so I don't have the whole picture like he does. The city feels strange now, like people are afraid but they don't know of what. Except it doesn't feel like fear, but everyone's feeling it anyway. It's constant, day and night, and none of the other Shadows had this effect. I didn't notice it at first, but now it's always there, a little more each day."

Akihiko thought it over. Abe-san at the Kirijo Group compound said that the number of Lost hadn't decreased this time around. Maybe they just hadn't found the people who had recovered, but Arisato had said that things had just gotten worse instead of better, that this was a tipping point on things, and Akihiko believed it. He filled Yamagishi in on the Kirijo details, adding, "I don't feel it like you do, but things have changed recently. The Dark Hour felt different last night, even if I can't say how."

She nodded. "I have nothing to compare it to, so I can't say what caused it, but I don't think it's a stretch to say that killing that last Shadow set things off. Or maybe, if Aigis was telling the truth, it's always been building in the background and we're only becoming aware of it now."

"I've been wondering that too," Akihiko replied grimly. "Not a good thought."

"Because fighting makes it worse, but we can't do nothing," she concluded, remembering their team talk from a few days ago.

Akihiko didn't want to ask this next question, but he had to know. "Is there any chance that Persona Arisato used has something to do with it?"

He hadn't finished talking when Yamagishi shrank back.

"It's possible," she conceded, her voice small. "That thing... it's different from any Persona I've ever felt. I don't know if it even is one, or if it's something else, but it... it's destructive. It might even be evil."

After seeing the arsenal Arisato regularly touted out, demons and angels and demigods, it was hard to pin a set morality on any of them given the natures of their Personas. Trying to dig deeper into the topic was a quick way to nowhere. But Akihiko shared Yamagishi's perspective of Arisato's most recent manifestation. "I believe that; I saw what it did to Aigis."

She shook her head. "You don't understand. Minato-kun's other Personas feel like him, more or less. He's always in control, even if they are separate from him. That one, it was its own thing. It wants to destroy everything that exists, and it–" She looked down, lips pale as they pinched together.

"It what?"

Nothing.

Akihiko approached her, stopping at a distance so she didn't feel cornered. "I get that it scared you. It scared all of us. No Persona could have fought Aigis and Palladion like that and won. But if there's something else, I need to know. Maybe we can use it to help him."

She shakily nodded. "Th... that Persona. It felt like Death. Like the Reaper in Tartarus."

Akihiko froze. They'd only encountered that thing twice, and both times they'd run. Everyone knew that it was something far beyond what they could fight, and they'd always been lucky enough to get away before it got too close. Even that proximity was enough to feel how dangerous it was. If there was a similarity between it and Arisato's Persona... Akihiko's mind raced through the implications, and the answers he came to made the situation worse. "You mean... like a Shadow?"

"Maybe. I don't know. The Reaper doesn't feel like a Shadow – it's unique to Tartarus, and I thought being there was affecting how I was sensing things." She looked away even more. "But I recognized that Persona when it came out. I felt it when we were at Shirakawa Boulevard, just for a second. And again when Minato-kun talked to Sakaki, when Shinjiro-senpai died. Little flashes, not enough to get a proper picture."

"And on the bridge, it came out in full force?"

"Yeah. There was nothing small or subtle about it that time."

The implications sank in.

She looked at him, naked fear and concern in her eyes. "If that's true... If Minato-kun's had that thing in him since back then, maybe even longer..."

"If he had a Shadow-killer in him, it explains why he could hear the Shadows and we couldn't," Akihiko noted. "Might be why we're able to kill them now, too."

"But it's more than that," Yamagishi whispered. "If he's always had it, and it's a Shadow, then–"

"Stop."

"But he–"

"We don't know that," Akihiko asserted firmly. "He's been in our corner from the beginning, and there are tonnes of people around town he's helped out. He's not a Shadow, and even if he's being carrying around something like that, he's still one of us."

She released a shaky breath. "I agree. But that thing's dangerous, and if it starts to affect him..."

"We'll deal with it, however we have to," Akihiko concluded. This wasn't the time to speculate, but more than that, he wasn't going to even entertain the notion that Arisato was the enemy. Strega and Ikutsuki were enemies. Shadows were enemies. Arisato, no matter what happened before or in the future, was his kouhai and his comrade, a friend who'd been thrown into something huge. "I'm not giving up on him, and neither are you. We'll keep going and get through this as a team. Whatever it takes, right?"

"Yes." Her answer had a hard note of certainty in it. She was clearly worried about what was going on, but she wasn't going to let it push her somewhere crazy. She might look like a wall flower, but she'd earned her place with them.

Akihiko felt a little bit normal again. Investigations that led nowhere frustrated him, but problems he could see and hit? That was more his style. He could work with answers and questions like this.

But those points raised more questions he didn't even want to think about:

What was Mitsuru going to do? Arisato's problem had compounded overnight; how was he going to pull through? How was the team going to manage from this point forward?

And with a new threat coming when they were all wrecks, what the hell were they supposed to do now?

 

–––

 

Junpei pushed himself to his feet, finally sick enough of his room that he needed to get out of it. He'd been trying to process everything that had happened since they'd killed the Shadow, been trying to figure out how it had all gone wrong, but he was running in circles. No matter which angle he took, he couldn't figure out how Minato could talk to Shadows, how he'd used that Persona, and why Aigis had gone crazy and tried to kill him. And hearing something break from where Akihiko-senpai was going through Ikutsuki's office, Junpei knew he wasn't going to figure anything out on his own. He got dressed and went into the hallway, rubbing his face.

The dorm felt wrong. Almost everyone was here who was supposed to be, but they were all avoiding each other, and there was this empty space where there used to be meals and homework and arguments. This wasn't a silence of everyone being close but needing to study for exams or something. This was the kind of silence everyone hated but no one knew quite how to break, so it got worse.

The sensation was familiar, tugging up unwelcome memories. Junpei ruthlessly quashed them before his mind went into his past. He'd rather eat wood screws than get stuck there, and the best way to not think was to do something. There was one thing that needed doing: Minato had been in his room since he'd come back, and Akihiko-senpai and Fuuka let him stay there. But Junpei wanted some answers, and he wasn't above kicking the bee hive to get things moving.

He headed for Minato's door, and noticed he wasn't the only person who had that idea; Yuka-tan was standing outside Minato's room, fingers threaded together and twisting.

"Wassup?" he asked, deliberately light and careless.

"Do you know if he's eaten anything?" she asked, ignoring his terrible grammar.

"His side of the fridge is emptier today than it was yesterday, so probably."

She huffed, running fingers through her hair in frustration. "This isn't good for him. It's not good for Mitsuru-senpai either; when I visited her this morning, she looked terrible."

"Has he talked to her?"

"I don't think so."

Junpei scratched the back of his neck. One side of him wanted to kick Minato's ass for having a girlfriend like that and ditching her when she needed him the most. But the other side of him understood. That fight with Aigis brought a lot of shit to the surface, shit that had apparently been under the radar this whole time. And for Minato – who had been through it worse than anyone except maybe their senpai – to break down and throw down like that, it must have been bad. "Is his door open?"

"What?"

"Did he lock himself in there?"

She looked offended. "I don't know; I'm not going to barge into a guy's room."

Junpei shook his head. She wanted to know what Minato's problem was, but not enough to go in and ask. Girls were strange. "Then let me do it."

Yuka-tan looked like she wanted to stop him, but didn't as he went to the door. The knob turned when he tried it. Either no one had tried to talk to Minato, or he wasn't at the point of locking them out. Junpei pushed in, Yuka-tan right behind him.

Minato's room looked... the same. The bed and sink were still in their usual place. No books on the floor, no overturned desk or holes in the wall, and it didn't seem like anything had been thrown through the window. Junpei noticed the room's inhabitant sitting on the floor, leaning against his bed, headphones on, staring at them.

Something immediately put Junpei on guard. Maybe it was the lack of reaction, of movement or verbal response. Maybe it was that dead-eyed stare, or the grey clothes on someone who usually wore blue and black. The vibes in the room were off, like it was someone different sitting there when it so obviously wasn't. Same blue hair and eyes, even if they were bedraggled and bloodshot. Same face, but pale now. Same presence, and Junpei was sure this was the same guy he'd worked with and fought beside, but instinct said it also wasn't.

Minato was one of the toughest bastards on the team. What had happened to him?

"Yo," he began with a wave, stepping further into the room uninvited. Yuka-tan followed, also looking around but keeping quiet. "How goes?"

Minato didn't respond at first. Then he pulled his earphones off. "What do you need?" His voice was also different, less level than usual and way more depressed.

Junpei set his stance. In this situation, Yuka-tan and Fuuka would probably go soft, try and feel him out with small questions and lead in to find out what the problem was. But Junpei hated the run-around and how much time it wasted. He had things he wanted to address, and he was damn well going to do it. "Seems like some things have changed, around here and with SEES. I want to talk."

"I'm not in the talking mood."

Junpei smirked. "Yeah, I guessed that. You haven't talked to anyone since you got back, have you?"

No answer.

"I need some exercise," he pressed. "Come fight with me. You can sweat out whatever's bugging you, get it off your chest. Some fresh air will do you good."

No reaction. But Minato's breathing shook on the exhale. "This isn't the sort of thing I can solve with a fight, Junpei."

"That's fine. If talking helps, then lay it on me. Yuka-tan's here, she can listen too if you need her to."

Yuka-tan nodded, but Minato stayed silent.

Junpei decided to hit a little harder. "We're in a mess right now. Things're bad with Aigis being down and the Dark Hour changing. We can all feel it. You're our leader. Why're you in here instead of helping Mitsuru-senpai and Akihiko-senpai?"

Minato flinched and looked away. He closed a hand into a fist. "There's not much I can do to help them. Call me when you want to kill Shadows, I'm pretty good at that."

"Then we'll do that," Junpei pressed, not buying into the pity party. "Let's go to Tartarus tonight. We'll find you a bunch of the big ones, as many as you need, and you can vent without worrying about hurting us. Sound good?"

"You're crazy if you think Mitsuru-senpai doesn't need your help," Yuka-tan added. "She just lost her dad. You saw how she was when Shinjiro-senpai died. How do you think she is now?"

"I'm part of the reason he died," Minato replied, his voice becoming haunted. "I could have saved him, and I didn't. I don't think she wants a reminder of that. Whatever she's going through, it's better than if I were there."

"That asshole Ikutsuki's the one who pulled the trigger," Junpei shot back. "And he might have killed us too if you hadn't fought back. You were twenty feet away. You didn't screw up, and it's not your fault Aigis attacked you."

"He died on my watch," Minato explained. "I could have healed him. Aigis wouldn't have attacked you guys; it was me she was after. I could have used that, or disabled her and helped Kirijo-san. Did you see me do that?"

"Cut the crap," Yuka-tan told him sharply. "We were there. I saw how hard you fought, how Aigis put you in that situation and what she threw at you. You didn't have a choice. You did everything you could have, and you would never have let Senpai's dad die if you had any chance to save him. Don't act like you're the one who shot him."

"I let Thanatos out." Minato spat the name. "Everything... everything hit at once. I wanted to fight back, and I let it get to my head. You saw me when Fuuka got in my way, right? That was still me."

"And you saved us," Junpei grated, starting to lose patience. This wasn't the guy he'd fought beside for months, the guy he'd strived to catch up to, someone he'd _envied_ up to now. Where was the strength? Where was the attitude? What happened to the guy who'd shredded his own insides to fight Metis because Mitsuru-senpai got hurt? "Ikutsuki wouldn't have spared us if Aigis had backed off, and you know it. You had your own shit to deal with, and it doesn't sound like it was pretty. Something about your parents and your sister? Aigis was there when they died?"

"Yeah." The self-loathing in his voice made it clear who he blamed for that.

Junpei was having none of it. "That was ten years ago. You were, what, seven? How are you the bad guy here? It's not your fault if you couldn't save them back then. You can't blame yourself, back then or for this."

"That's not the point."

"Then tell us what is!"

Minato rubbed his eyes, making them even redder. "It's not just that they died. You're right; I was a kid, and there's nothing I could have done to save them. But it didn't really hit me before. I didn't feel anything, so I joked about it, pretended everything was okay. They were my parents, my sister, and I acted like it didn't matter. For ten years, it _didn't_ matter and I never thought twice about it that my own family died right in front of me. Not a great look, is it?"

"It looked like you remembered all that just before that Persona came out," Junpei noted. "Did that have something to do with it? It hit you all at once, right before Thanatos came out. Ten years of that crap, along with everything we deal with every night, would overload anyone."

"Overloaded or not, you'd think it would have sunk in that I'd lost something important," Minato spat. "You know, when Minako died in front of me. And my parents. Why did it take Kirijo-san dying to make it click?"

"Was that Persona holding everything back?" Yuka-tan stepped in, probably trying to defuse the argument Junpei was about to start. "How could it do that? It's a Persona, and they are parts of us, right? Was it holding everything back because you couldn't handle the trauma?"

"Thanatos... I don't know everything about it yet. It feels different though."

"Different how?"

"Ask Fuuka," he recommended with a bitter smirk. "She hasn't come anywhere near me since I came back. I think she knows what it is."

"She probably hasn't come to see you because you're shutting everyone out," Junpei snapped. "You haven't had a shower in days and you look terrible. Try washing up and leaving your room, then see what happens."

Minato smiled hollowly. "Another Shadow's coming. Do you think it might already be here?"

Yuka-tan blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I can hear them. They talk to me, but not to anyone else. Why is that? Thanatos wanted to kill the last one so badly that it overpowered me. Why do I have something like that when none of you do?"

Junpei's jaw hurt from how hard his teeth were grinding. "If you think it's because you're a Shadow, you're insane."

"Am I? Every Shadow up to now has been tied to the major arcana tarot cards, starting from one and working up the list. The last one was the Hanged Man. The next one is Death. Thanatos is a death god, and that thing the last Shadow told me about is coming, probably to finish us off. Maybe they got to one of us early."

"That's a coincidence," Yuka-tan insisted. "You use lots of Personas that aren't tied to any arcana we've faced yet. No other Persona you have has been affected by Shadows before. If Thanatos is a one-off, then treat it like that. It's strange and there's probably more going on than we know, but that doesn't make you a monster."

"Aigis knew Thanatos was inside me," Minato continued. "She gave up when she saw I could use it at its fullest. That's why she fought so hard, and I think that's why I didn't like her at first. Might be that's what Metis felt when she attacked me. Aigis would rather kill me than let Thanatos out, and her reason for living is to kill Shadows, not Personas. Again, coincidence?"

"That doesn't mean she's right," Yuka-tan fired back. "Maybe she thinks you're Death. So what? She's lied to us about Metis, she never told you about your family when she had no reason to keep that to herself, and she helped Ikutsuki put us under. Even if her intentions were good, there's a lot she's completely wrong about. And what about Igor and Elizabeth? Senpai said that they told you to keep killing Shadows, that you were the one who was pushing everything toward a future where we win. Do you think they lied to you?"

Minato snorted and leaned into the argument – the most animated he'd been so far. "You don't think Aigis knows what she's doing, but Igor and Elizabeth do? I can't understand half the stuff they talk about, and neither could the others when they came with me."

"So?" she pressed. "Did they lie to you? What about Pharos?"

"They might not have lied, but they haven't said anything clear in the first place. Lots of grey area there. The only thing they were clear about was that I was supposed to keep killing Shadows and I'd get my answers if I did. That hasn't happened, has it?"

"Not yet," she insisted. "And that's just it. Maybe we haven't gotten to the point where we get our answers yet. Mitsuru-senpai said that there were things they didn't tell you because it might change how you acted, and that would lower your chances of winning, right? Think of it like train tracks; we have to keep going until we hit the switch and change where we're going."

Minato didn't look convinced. "Like everything up to now has been fate?"

"You said it yourself. Ikutsuki lied to us from the start, and the plans for this stuff have been in place since before we started fighting. The only thing we could do was go on bad information until we could get the whole picture. Killing Shadows might be the best, or only, way forward, and we would have made things worse if we hadn't played Ikutsuki's game."

"That came with a pretty high price tag."

"It also kept us alive. It gave us the next chance to learn about what's coming and fight back. You're acting like the fight's over because Senpai's dad died. It isn't; we just haven't gotten to where we need to yet. If we crack now, then we'll really miss the chance when it comes."

"You don't know that."

Junpei pointed his finger accusingly. "Neither do you! You don't stay down when you lose; you get back up and you try harder! Maybe we were being used, and yeah, Kirijo-san dying really sucks. But we're still in this fight, and we've won every single one so far, haven't we?"

"I'm not sure I'd call the last one a win. I'd say it was a pretty big screw-up, actually."

Junpei bridled. "Shut up. Just because we took a hit doesn't mean we're out of the game. It was a big hit, yeah, one none of us expected, but we're still here and there's a lot we can do. We can help you with that stuff about your family. We can help Mitsuru-senpai with Kirijo-san dying. And we'll catch Ikutsuki and burn him alive. But we need to work at it, and that means you pulling with the rest of us."

More silence.

"It doesn't even have to be fighting," Yuka-tan tried. "Just talk to us. Go outside for a while. Try growing flowers again, if that's what you want to do, but you can't shut us out and stay in here."

"White chrysanthemums," Minato muttered. "Funeral flowers. What you give to honour the dead. Pretty telling that I'd like them, isn't it?"

"Knock that shit off!" Junpei snapped. "Things might be terrible, but the least you can do is put up a fight!"

Minato said nothing.

Junpei forced his fists to unclench. He didn't know when he'd gotten this angry. "To hell with this," he spat, turning and stalking from the room. He almost bowled Yuka-tan over, and he slammed the door out of his way as he left.

He was at the stairs before he stopped, and he had to lean against the wall so he could vent. He hated it when people sank that low, and it got to him more than it should have. He tried to rein the fury in, but he realized where it was coming from. Not from Minato, not from the situation, but from his own past, and that made it way worse.

"Are you okay?" Yuka-tan asked from behind him, standing a safe distance back. "I've never seen you like that."

"Yeah," he ground out, trying to push everything back down. His past fought back, the memories grabbing hold and not letting go.

"Do you want to talk about it? You weren't just angry at Minato-kun there, were you?"

He tightened his fists again. He knew she meant well, but his wounds weren't the sort of thing he could share. He tried to say as much, but his tongue froze. Rationality fought with shame. "Those problems," he started, "they're not something I can solve with talking, y'know?"

In saying the words, he could relate a little to how Minato felt. He understood why the guy wanted to do anything but address the problem, and Junpei really, really hated that he understood.

She nodded, but stood next to him. "I know those kinds of problems. I felt like that with my mom a while ago. I kept it bottled up because it was no one's business except mine."

Junpei could relate to that.

"But I think I was wrong to keep it to myself," she continued. "Talking to Shinjiro-senpai helped put things in perspective, gave me a new angle on things. He was a dick about it, rude and acting like he didn't care, but he listened and asked the right questions to change how I thought about things."

Junpei winced at the name of their departed senpai.

"Everyone's a mess right now," she noted. "This whole situation's one big disaster. If you've got things you can't solve with a talk, I get it, but if it helps even a little, then that's something. I don't think any of us need to deal with problems we could get past if we worked together."

He let out a shaky breath.

"Not saying you have to. But I don't have anywhere to be."

"Yeah," he let out slowly. Maybe it was time to try something new. He'd never talked about his past. The people at school who knew and gave him the gears about it, he'd already fought with or brushed off. The ones who didn't know, he didn't want to tell. This had been his problem, his shame, for so long that keeping it to himself was second nature. He'd thought he'd kept it locked away this whole time, but maybe it needed to get out. "If you're sure."

She nodded.

He didn't see any deception in her, and even if she was popular he knew she had problems of her own. Everyone at the dorm did, and that meant she could relate.

The words came up easily, like they wanted to be shared. "It's my dad. He's just like that, locking himself up and shutting everything out. Running from problems instead of solving them. I hate seeing people like that." He looked at her. "You've been in Tatsumi for a while. You've heard about my parents? About what happened?"

"I've heard rumours," she replied. "Never put much in them. People say a lot of stupid stuff, especially if they want to make it hurt."

"Well, some of them are true in my case. My dad was big into lotteries and raffles. He always had money put aside, saying you couldn't win if you didn't play." Junpei chuckled, feeling hollow as the past arose inside him. "Might have made it worse that he was lucky more than he wasn't. He bet things close sometimes, but always seemed to come out ahead. It drove Mom crazy, but he'd take us out for nice dinners or buy her stuff with his winnings, and it was hard to see it as a problem when he kept it under control and pulled a net positive."

She nodded.

The words were raw and bloody now. "One day, he lost. Lost really fucking big on an investment scam. He said he vetted the guy, said he was sure he had a winner, that it was a perfect hedge against recession, that he could retire early and live off the interest. Mom said he was playing a totally different game, where there were no winners and it wasn't about chance or luck. She was right, but there was nothing we could do once the money was gone."

"How much did he lose?"

"Almost everything." The words were haunting with their stark reality, but anger buffered against despair. "I don't know if he really did vet the guy or if he saw tin and thought it was silver. Didn't seem real, even a week after it happened. But it was." That's when the fights had begun. Mom had always had a job, always wanted a stable bet against uncertainty and a recession. She worked hard for what they had, and she made their house a home. Clean, kept, and meals so good the neighbours always asked for recipes. That stopped when the money disappeared. "Mom was angrier than anyone I've ever seen. She had to take on another job to stay afloat, and Dad started drinking. He gave up, tried running from his mistake instead of fixing it."

"You think Minato-kun's doing that right now," she noted.

"Yeah."

"I think I can see what you mean. You'd never have thought your dad could fall that far, but he did. Minato-kun's been strong right from the start, but now he's on the same track."

"I hope like hell he isn't," Junpei shared fervently. The Iori household had gone from the envy of the block to the place people avoided like head lice, all in a few months. The vicious fights, the long silences, the separation between his parents, how his family life had devolved seemingly beyond repair no matter what he tried, it had been too much. Guys at school who heard about his problems tried to bring it up, and he'd started getting into fights. He'd cut himself off from sports and clubs he used to attend, and he stayed out at night so he wouldn't have to go home. Things were a wreck until Akihiko-senpai found him and told him about the Dark Hour. Even with the scars and the fights, even if the price tag was fighting Shadows, it was better than being in that shell where his home used to be. "That place... I'm not sure if there's a way to come back from it."

"Were there no other options for your parents? No relatives to help out or a fallback strategy?"

Junpei shook his head. "My dad's parents are neck-deep in debt. They both make huge money, but they spend it before it even hits the bank. And Mom's side of the family has a lot of health problems. Grandpa passed on four years ago, and Grandma needs a lot of help. Mom was able to send money and visit when things were good, but now that's gone too. No money, no time to help, and things go from bad to worse."

"So it wasn't just affecting him," Yuka-tan mused. "I can see why it would hit your dad hard. People relied on him, and now he can't help them. He was probably thinking of that when he was making those bets, thinking of ways to help. Maybe to not end up like his own parents, if they're like what you say."

"Even if he was, that doesn't forgive where things are now," Junpei ground out.

"I agree. If he wanted to help, he picked a bad way to do it. But I think I can understand that, caring about someone so much that it screws with you and makes you do stupid stuff." She looked at him. "My mom's like that. She took my dad dying really badly, and she's been a wreck ever since. Up to now, she's been running, not facing reality, and it's only made things worse."

He chuckled. "Something we have in common, eh? Sorry to hear it."

She shook her head, a determined gleam in her eye. "Don't be. It's taken me this long, but I want to help her if I can. It might be that I can't, but I don't want to let her go without trying."

"I can't say the same for my parents," he admitted. "I have no idea where I'd even start there."

"Right, but I think Minato-kun's stronger than that. He's in a bad place now, maybe worse than anything we can imagine, but he's always come back to us before."

"Everyone has a breaking point," Junpei pointed out. "You and I probably never thought our parents would trip up this bad, but here we are. This might be the thing that Minato can't come back from."

"That could be," she conceded, "but I think he's got something on his side. Something my mom didn't."

"What's that?"

"A lot of people pulling for him. Akihiko-senpai, Mitsuru-senpai, you and me and Fuuka. There's the Shadows and those two people he talked about before, Igor and Elizabeth, pulling at him. He's in the middle of this stuff, and he can't just lock himself up and ignore the world. It's not like there's anywhere that's safe from the Shadows, right?"

"You think we should keep pushing him."

"Yes. None of us knows what he's going through, but we can't operate without him. Seeing him today gave me some perspective, and I think we can work with that. Thanks for pushing him like you did."

Junpei shuffled. He wasn't expecting to be thanked for acting like a bull in a china shop. "Glad you got something out of it."

"I'm going to talk to Akihiko-senpai about it. Maybe he has some ideas. Want to come?"

"I'll pass. I need some air, maybe work some of this stuff out."

"Okay." She cleared her throat. "Let me know if you need to talk again. It helps to get this stuff out."

Junpei sensed she wasn't speaking for his benefit. "Yeah, I might do that. Let me know what Senpai says, if he needs my help."

"I will." She left, heading for Ikutsuki's office.

Junpei went down the stairs and put his shoes on, but stopped at the front door. The knot of anger in his chest was gone now, and his past wasn't the caustic pit it had been up to now. It was still sore, a reminder in the back of his mind where he hated to go, but talking had gotten things out, and he was glad he had. Knowing Yuka-tan could relate to his situation, that she had her own demons in the closet, made him feel less alone and more himself. And he'd never thought about his dad in that way. Trying to help Grandma by taking chances? Afraid to become like his parents? Junpei didn't know if he believed it, but he never would have thought about it himself. If there was something to that, then the man was human, so afraid of disappointing his loved ones that he'd gotten careless and taken a bad chance.

Maybe it was true. Maybe it wasn't. But it was something to think about.

As Junpei put his coat on at the dorm doors, he closed his eyes in thought. "Thanks," he whispered to Yuka-tan before heading outside.

 

–––

 

Ken wanted to think it was going to be a good day. He'd been talking with Maeda-san and Abe-san about getting better, been reading books and trying to get back into a normal routine. He'd been writing letters to the others in SEES, wanting to put his thoughts on paper and give them something more permanent than a phone call or a text message. He'd stopped trying to push his Persona out and focused on working with his spear, running, and acrobatics including tumbling and rolls. His exertions, both mental and physical, pushed him hard enough that he was too tired to dream or sink into that hole of pain and insanity that followed him. It wasn't to say that he could keep it at bay or that he was better – he couldn't and he wasn't – but exercising helped to keep his mood stable, and at least he was getting faster and stronger. Same with his school work, even if he was on "medical leave" and thus had an out when it came to his studies.

SEES needed the best, and if his prior efforts weren't working, then he'd try another angle. Abe-san had promised to push Ken as hard as he wanted, and that promise was being fulfilled. Ken had woken up sore for the first few days, but he'd gone as hard as he could, set on meeting Abe-san's goals.

When the full moon had arrived, he'd promised himself he was going to be ready for the next one. The spear felt solid in his hands, and even if the idea of fighting Shadows again terrified him, he wanted to be out there with his friends. "I can't promise you'll be ready that soon," Abe-san had told him when he'd set the goal. "But I'll help you get as far as you can." That had included mind exercises for mental fortitude, more sessions with Maeda-san, and a future meeting with SEES as a whole to get him ready. Abe-san was throwing the book at him twelve hours a day, every week worked out in advance. Ken had grinned at the challenge, understanding how Akihiko-senpai must have felt in the ring.

Then the full moon had passed. That's when everything changed.

Aigis was there two mornings later, as a patient instead of as a visitor. Her arm was cut off and her legs were broken. She looked like she'd lost the fight of her life. Ken had immediately asked how dangerous the Shadow was that could do that kind of damage. She was quiet, subdued, and she wouldn't meet his eyes – like a completely different person. She kept asking about his progress and tried to encourage him, but the support felt hollow and she wouldn't address anything directed at herself. He talked to one of her technicians outside her room, trying every angle to get some answers.

"Mitsuru-san said the details are secret," the tech had said, "but I overheard Yamagishi say that Aigis got in a fight with Arisato. If he did this, it's a wonder he didn't kill her."

Ken couldn't believe it, so much so that he'd let the technician leave without another word. Arisato-senpai had fought Aigis? Had hurt her this much? What on earth had happened?

When he asked her, Aigis said nothing. But the flinch at Arisato-senpai's name told him something was very wrong.

The same day, he'd heard that Kirijo-san, Mitsuru-san's father, had been killed. That Ikutsuki-san had been outed as a traitor.

The entire complex rippled at the news. Mourning for the chairman began immediately. He'd been well loved here, working closest with the staff at this location, and so here the biggest impact had been made. Lively lunchtime discussions were muted, the air smelled of incense in remembrance, and arrangements were being made for the staff to attend the funeral and pay their respects.

Ken couldn't believe that Ikutsuki-san had been the one to pull the trigger. That had to be an analogy, a euphemism for something else. It had to be a mistake. But Abe-san san had pulled Ken aside and explained his suspicions that went back months. Ken's lack of qualifications for recruitment into SEES, his sketchy training, how his anger had been used against Shinjiro-senpai, and how everything tied together into the breakdown that had gotten him here. Abe-san explained it all bluntly, not having the time to sugar coat anything. He'd left Ken after that, looking haggard and furious.

Ken could relate to that kind of fury. Once it all sank in, Ken could see how he'd been used as a pawn, his personal tragedy toyed with to make him into a one-shot weapon. Clearly, he hadn't been meant to make it past that night he confronted Shinjiro-senpai – Shinjiro-senpai might have defended himself, or Sakaki would have killed them both, or Ken would have ended his life right there. Regardless, his life's worth was spent and dismissed at Ikutsuki-san's whim.

What if things had been just a little different? What would he be like now if he'd run away instead of coming here? If he hadn't met his father and stepped back from himself? What had he been like to manifest something like Nemesis in the first place? To think he'd been used to the benefit of the monster who killed Mitsuru-san's father made him want to scream. He'd gone to the exercise room and pushed himself until he puked, until the staff forced him to stop. It had been the only way he could sleep.

Now he was meeting with Abe-san in his office, five days after the full moon, three days after Aigis had come here, and Ken both wanted to help and to hit something. His calls to SEES had gone unreturned, the facility felt like its heart had been ripped out, and Aigis had been put under even stricter guard while the technicians began to put her back together. Abe-san had been outlining how Ken's itinerary would be changing, how his lessons would have to be rescheduled, but the man was pausing when he spoke. He seemed distracted.

"Are you okay?" Ken asked. "I understand if things are crazy, but you don't seem well."

Abe-san smiled hollowly, looking pale and worn out. "I'd be lying if I said I'm okay. Things got turned on their head, as you know."

"Can I help?"

Abe-san looked at him for several long seconds, then sighed heavily. "It's not that you can't. Something's come up that might involve you if you want."

"What is it?"

"Mitsuru-san's asked me to pass along an offer. Your place in SEES is yours if you want it."

Ken was flabbergasted, so much so that he missed what Abe-san said after and had to asked for a repeat.

"Things have gone into crisis mode," Abe-san explained. "SEES is undermanned. Mitsuru-san is here and Aigis might never be welcome back on the team. Arisato's in no shape to fight, and Sanada's trying to hold everything together. In these circumstances, everyone who might be of help is being asked to step forward."

Ken tried to speak a few times, but couldn't. Even with the proof all around of how bad things had gotten, for him to be offered a second chance now, when even he knew he wasn't ready, spoke volumes.

"I told them that you're still not able to summon a Persona," Abe-san continued. "They've seen your records, and I made sure they understood what your situation is. It's all hands on deck, however, so this is your chance to go back."

"What's wrong with Arisato-senpai? Was he hurt when he was fighting Aigis?"

"He was hurt, but not physically. It seems like he had some repressed memories that hit him all at once, and he's dealing with the aftermath. Mitsuru-san also said he summoned a Persona far stronger than anything we've seen before, something strong enough to single-handedly kill the Shadow from a few nights ago."

Ken let that sink in. Just thinking of something that powerful made it hard to swallow. "And Mitsuru-senpai's grieving over her father, and trying to keep the Kirijo Group together. It sounds like there are a lot of problems."

"Plenty, which is why the offer's being made. I don't want you to answer yet; it's too early for this to all sink in. Keep in mind what it will mean, though. Going back to the dorm means fighting Shadows as you are now, without the luxury of a safety net. That would mean the end for you if you aren't ready."

"It also means I could help them," Ken brought up. "Even just a little."

"Maybe, but don't get too carried away there. The problems we're facing now aren't the sort that could be solved even if you manifested a Persona tomorrow. Given the circumstances, there's a limit to what any of us can do." He sighed, sinking into his desk. He looked like he was pouring himself dry, as Mom would say, and Ken had to wonder when he'd had any rest. "When you make your decision, I'll pass it on. But don't make it now. Get some rest, talk to Maeda, and really think about what you'll be walking into if you go back."

Ken nodded and left the office, unable to say anything else. He was in a fog even when he went to his meeting with Maeda-san that evening.

"Abe-san told me you've been offered your old place in SEES," the therapist commented once it was clear where the boy's head was.

"That's right," Ken replied woodenly. "He told me to think about it."

"He's right about that."

"Mitsuru-senpai and Arisato-senpai. They need help, don't they?"

"Without a doubt, but Abe-san told you not to assume that it's the kind of help you can offer. He's right. I don't mean that you shouldn't think about helping, but in situations like these, when there's nothing we can do, we run in any direction that looks like a way forward, and that usually makes things worse."

Ken shrank in his seat. He'd been thinking that himself, wanting to race back to the dorm and lend a hand. He still wanted to. "What should I do?"

Maeda-san sighed, looking like he'd aged a decade in the last few days. "I wish I had an answer."

Ken had been stuck on that question since Abe-san had made the offer. When he examined why he wanted to go back and help, he knew it was because he wanted to do what he could for the people there. They weren't just people who lived in the same building he did. They were his friends. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"How do you get past something like that? Mitsuru-senpai's mom died years ago, and now so has her dad. She has to take care of the Kirijo Group, she's in charge of SEES, and everyone at the dorm looks up to her. How is she going to manage?"

"Are you seeing a bit of yourself in her?"

Ken had to think that one through before answering. Maeda-san did this sometimes, pointing to clear examples and connecting them to Ken's own life. "I hope she handles it better than I did. She's taking care of the Kirijo Group, right?"

"Don't assume that either," Maeda cautioned. "She's functional, but only barely. Just because her threshold is higher than yours doesn't mean she can't break just like you did."

"Have you talked to her? What would you say to help her?"

"People are enormously adaptive. Biologists say that's how our species has survived so many millions of years. When you meet people who have been through life-changing events like war, amputations, the sort of things that truly break your foundation, you often find an incredible knack for resilience."

"So you think she'll pull through?"

Maeda-san shrugged. "I don't know. Of course I hope so, but there's so much at play that I can't even guess. What I can say is that every challenge she's ever faced hasn't come close to preparing her for this. It might be that this is beyond her ability to cope and that there's nothing I or anyone can do to help her. And you know how much is resting on her and the others."

Ken knew, and he didn't want to even imagine the weight she must be bearing right now. Maeda-san had told him to never quantify suffering, that doing so was a fast way to a pit of self-pity, but it still felt like what Ken had gone through with Mom and Dad was nothing compared to what Mitsuru-senpai was facing right now.

To keep his mind off of it, he went with a different avenue of thought. "I don't mean this in a bad way, but you're taking all of this very well. Abe-san looked pretty bad today."

"He's under enormous stress," Maeda-san noted. "He's juggling your case, trying to help Mitsuru-san, managing the Ikutsuki matter, and taking on even more work to help where he can. And he has a family he doesn't want to neglect."

Again, Ken couldn't imagine the fortitude it must take to handle all that. "He's amazing. Are you taking on a lot of extra work?"

"I am. Many employees have asked to see me, and their problems aren't the sort that will be fixed with a few talks."

Ken noted the stacks of files on Maeda-san's desk, some opened and spilling sheets all over the place. This had to be why he looked so tired. "Will you be okay?"

"Of course." There was no doubt in his voice.

"How do you know? I mean, everyone's in shock right now. You've never faced Shadows, right? Or gone through something like this before? Why are you so sure you'll be okay?"

That drew a genuine smile from the man. "Like I said, people are resilient. In the face of the worst, they'll find a way to pull through. Some won't, and maybe most won't in the worst cases. Mitsuru-san and the rest of SEES, you included, are facing things that would crush normal people. But even we normal people without Personas can push through, especially if we have a strong reason to do so."

Ken thought of his father, broken and so afraid of the past that he would assault his own son. Ken thought of himself, equally broken and so filled with revenge and poison that he'd let himself be used by someone else. So set on a lie that the truth had rendered him powerless. And he thought of the people he went to school with, who were spending their time playing sports and goofing around. How were people like that the same as Arisato-senpai and Akihiko-senpai?

"I don't think I know anyone like that," Ken murmured.

Maeda-san leaned over to look closer, frowning thoughtfully. "I think an example might help to make my point."

"If you think so," Ken wavered, not sure what such an example would even look like.

"I do." Maeda-san picked up his phone and spoke quietly. The exchange was short, and a few minutes later the door opened. "Thank you for coming by so quickly," he told the guest.

"I was nearby," Abe-san told them shortly, looking even more haggard than he had this morning. His tie was missing, his shirt's top buttons were undone and his sleeves were rolled up.

Ken looked at the man in surprise.

"You were asking about how people cope with terrible events in life, Amada," Maeda-san noted. "About resilience. Here's a good example for you."

Abe-san grunted. "Call me on the weekend and we'll see how well I'm doing. How much do you know about the experiments we ran ten years ago, Amada?"

"Um... only what Mitsuru-senpai told me."

"That's enough then. Her grandfather was a monster, even worse than what Ikutsuki's turning out to be. I was part of the group who tested new 'candidates'–" the word carried a lifetime of venom, "–for the experiments. Kids your age, some older or younger, most taken from broken homes. They were already ruined by life, and what we did to them didn't make things better. It was a nightmare for our best people, but I wasn't one of the best. Not by a long shot."

"How can that be? You're strong now," Ken protested. "You're handling almost everything here now, and you're helping Mitsuru-senpai as much as you can, right?"

"Right now I'm not who I was back then," Abe-san said shortly, scorn rich in his voice. "I was weak. I wanted to be noticed. I did as I was told without complaint, experimented on who I was told without question. I was working twenty hours a day to keep up with the schedule we were given, and it ruined my home life. If I tell you Kaori, my wife, had an affair, you'll know what I mean?"

Ken blushed furiously. "It, um, means she was having– I mean, that she..."

"You get it," Abe-san concluded. "Well, that happened. I found out the hard way, by hearing a stranger's voice on the answering machine. This was at a time when Arata, my son, wouldn't talk to me, and shortly after, Kotone, my daughter, ran away from home. I had been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder when I was younger, and asking Kaori to marry me put me through two episodes that sent me to the hospital. I love her more than anything, but I was so afraid of not being a good enough husband and father that I turned into a mess. That led me to want to prove myself at work, to put in more hours than anyone and take on the heaviest cases, which made my problems orders of magnitude worse. I was a textbook definition of a vicious cycle."

Ken wanted to comment that Abe-san's life was better now, that he'd talked about his wife and family in good terms before. Surely–

"I was at the hospital being treated for stomach ulcers and hypertension when the experiments went bad," the operator continued, voice flat. "That was the only reason I survived. I knew that, and it made things worse. My friends, my subordinates and my senpai, they all died. People with kids and families, people who protested the experiments and tried to stop the worst of them, all dead. I, who took the coward's way out and did as I was told without objection, survived. I thought things were bad by that point, but the work I needed after that goes well past therapy. If you've heard of survivor's guilt, then you know what I mean. If you haven't heard of it, then you can imagine what it is, and believe me when I say it's nothing you want to go through. I was on a grocery list of drugs when Takeharu-san visited me personally. He gave me a chance to put my life in order. He kept me on retainer and gave me the resources I needed to bounce back."

"Um... You did bounce back, didn't you?"

"No, I didn't. Not at first. Kaori saw what a mess I was and wouldn't believe me when I told her I would try to turn things around. Arata wouldn't take my calls. Kotone's boyfriend was exactly the sort of bad news every father fears. I was stuck between disasters with nowhere to go, so bad I was living at the hospital because the shrinks were certain I was suicidal." He let the words hang in the air. "Looking back on it, they were right. It was that bad."

Abe-san's words were like watching a train wreck; looking was terrifying, but one couldn't look away. Ken had to ask, "What did you do?"

"What I could. I tracked Kotone down when she ran off. Found her starving and freezing in an alley." Abe-san held up his arm, showing a three-inch scar from a knife. "The crowd she ran with didn't want to let her go, and I was on my own. I did it anyway; she's my little girl and I wasn't going to give up on her. It still took months of meeting almost every day before we worked things out. Arata came around for Kotone's sake, and Kaori gave me another chance on the promise of some serious counselling and a lot of changes to our life.

"I had to put myself back together, be a proper husband and father, keep up with work, and make my peace with those experiments and all the people who died," Abe-san continued, counting the points off on his fingers. "It took me half a decade of working at it every single day, and I wouldn't have gotten anywhere if Takeharu-san hadn't helped me."

That explained the fierce drive the man showed. It was worthy of a Persona-User, but Abe-san hadn't manifested anything. He was a normal man, and that made his experiences all the more powerful. "How did everything work out with your family?" Ken asked.

"Kaori and I reconciled," Abe-san replied, a soft smile fighting past his stern expression. "We renewed our vows four years ago, and we're spending our anniversary somewhere warm next year. It's in March. Kotone's met someone who isn't too much of an idiot, and my son just popped the question with his girlfriend. She's a good match for him, and she's part of why he and I patched things up as well as we did."

Ken's voice was soft, heavy with emotion. He was choked up, hearing what sounded like a happy ending after so much pain. "That's... that's good. Really good."

"It is," Maeda-san noted, "but do you see the point? Abe-san's story wasn't always good just because where he is now is positive."

"It's a lot of work to make everything go right," Abe-san commented. "When you meet a girl like that, Amada, don't think otherwise. Asking her will be the hardest thing you'll ever do, but that's nothing compared to the work you have to put into it every day."

"And he went through it all at his absolute worst."

Abe-san looked at the therapist with a knowing smirk. "Maeda's got his own story, if you're talking about resilience and going through hell."

Ken looked over.

Maeda-san shrugged, smiling a bit bashfully. "Nothing that would compare, I'm afraid."

"Didn't you say we shouldn't quantify suffering?" Ken commented.

Abe-san laughed. "He's got you there. And I thought we were being honest. Don't sell yourself short."

"Fair enough," Maeda-san conceded. "I've told you, Amada, how my daughter is expecting our second grandchild? And how my son just received tenure at the university he's working at?"

"That's right."

"My wife and I planned for more children. She was pregnant with twins when she miscarried."

Ken's brief levity froze solid.

"Late-term," Maeda-san continued. "She knew something was wrong immediately, but there were terrible complications. She nearly died in the hospital." His gaze was faraway. "She was there for four days. I don't think I slept fifteen minutes the whole time. Our children were young then, and I had to try and hold them together while we waited for news. She pulled through, but it took a lot out of her. She needed corrective surgery and months of work, and she could never have more children after the operations were finished. She wanted those twins so badly, and hearing that we couldn't try for more... I can't describe how hard she took it."

Ken couldn't imagine losing children, twins, so close to them being born. What must that be like for a mother and father? "How did you do it?" he asked, his voice hoarse. "When you were at your lowest, what kept you going? Why didn't you just give up?"

"Hope," Abe-san replied gruffly. "Every time I've ever thought that my life couldn't get any worse, I was proven wrong, and always in ways I never wanted to experience. I stopped tempting fate and tried to make tomorrow less agonizing than today, and the day after that a bit better."

"That worked?"

"For me, yes. Depression is something that keeps you on your knees and never lets you up. You don't have a future if you stay like that, so you have to work your hardest to get somewhere. Even if it was just a little bit here and there, I needed to be doing something. I needed a future that I wanted badly enough to keep going. People need to believe there's something worth fighting and suffering for, or they really will drive themselves crazy."

"I had my children and my family," Maeda-san said, "but I was much the same. I had to believe there was something on the other side of all the tragedy, even when I knew that future was changed by what was going on in the present. To do otherwise is to drown, and I knew that once I went under, I might never get back out."

Ken fought to ask the question he'd been struggling with for days. "What about now? If there's another Shadow, and if whatever controls them is coming, then things are going to get much worse. Aren't you scared?"

"Of course," Abe-san replied. "Anyone who sees what we see and isn't afraid, even on some level, is either lying or insane. Fear is part of living, though, and letting it stop us from doing what we want is the same as dying."

"I plan to live long enough to have many grandchildren and spoil them as much as I can," Maeda-san said with a soft smile. "It's possible that I might not live to see that. Perhaps I'll be hit by a car tomorrow or die of a heart attack next week. We might be living in the final days of what was set in motion ten years ago, but so long as there is a chance, then there's a reason to go on. Even us normal people who cannot fight the Shadows will still do what we can, a little bit every day until things become better."

Resilience. Drive and grit. Even on the smallest level, in the most mundane tasks, there were heroes and victims among these normal people who had suffered and been hurt, but who kept going forward. "It's the same with everyone else here, isn't it?" Ken murmured, thinking of the facility staff, the cleaners and cooks and guards. All with their own worries and dreams and failures, each one a complex person who had been hurt and persisted on, adding to the whole that was larger than the compound could contain.

It crystallized in a moment when he realized he didn't know what his friends saw when they looked to tomorrow. What were they fighting for? Where did they see their lives going when they put their Evokers away? Ken had never asked that question because he figured he'd be dead or gone before it mattered; not knowing made it easier to run away. Surely they all had their own demons like Abe-san and Maeda-san, and their own reasons for pushing forward in spite of the pain.

"Everyone has a story that will break your heart," Maeda-san replied. "My PhD instructor told me that."

"Does that help?" Abe-san asked.

"I think so," Ken answered, looking up. "Can I say something?"

"Shoot."

"This might sound lame, but what you told me about your past... It's incredible. I think you're pretty cool for going through it."

The operator's lips quirked in a smirk. "You're right, that was lame. But if it helped you, then I don't mind."

Ken pouted, and the men laughed. The moment of levity was like a flicker of light in the darkness they'd all been stuck in since the full moon. In the sound of their laughter came a glimmer of something in Ken's mind, a ripple on the pond, but it vanished when he focused on it.

Abe-san turned toward the door, waving his farewells as he left. Ken bowed to the man, head full of questions but with an answer he didn't have before. "Are we finished?" he asked.

"We are," Maeda-san told him with a smile. "Do you understand now?"

"I think so."

"What are you going to do?"

"Whatever I can to help them, whether it's in the field or at the dorm. It's probably not enough to fix the things everyone's going through, like you said before, but I want to do what I can."

Maeda-san's eyes narrowed. "Because why? Don't think that's the only place you can make a difference or fix yourself. You'll be in danger if you rejoin SEES, and you could well die and hurt them if you can't look after yourself."

"Abe-san came back to the Kirijo Group, even though his work caused him so much pain," Ken noted. "He was able to help people, back then and right now, because of that. If I can do the same, then that's where I belong."

"And the consequences?"

"I'll face them. Whatever they are." The next words came from a shaky, unstable place in his heart, but they rang with honesty. "I want to stop running away."

Maeda-san smiled. "Very good. Remember this feeling, and I think you will succeed. But make your decision in the morning."

"I will. Thank you for everything."

Ken went back to his room and laid down, too wired to rest. Though he only slept a few hours, he still awoke resolved and sure. It might be a mistake, but it was the decision that felt right.

He got up and ate breakfast, then packed his things and gave Abe-san his answer:

Amada Ken was going back to the dorm and rejoining SEES, and he would face whatever came at him.


	18. Nachreisen

**Author's Notes:** Hello again everyone! Here's another chapter of CoE, and just under the wire before April no less. I'll get some thanks to my reviewers done, and then we're right into the good stuff. As before, thanks to Firion for his feedback and commentary. I can safely say this fic would be different, and worse, without it. Enjoy!

**linkzeldi:** Thanks so much for your reviews! I'm glad you're liking Minato, and I'm especially happy that the fic's being this well received. I love your assessment of Minato and how him being the messianic figure also sets him up for a tonne of problems when things happen outside of his ability to influence or stop them. And this is life; lots of stuff is going to happen outside his influence. I'm glad his conflicts are getting across, and I hope you like where the story goes. And regarding Ryoji, I won't spoil anything, but I've got a lot of material in mind for him, and I'm looking forward to getting to him myself. Thanks again, and enjoy the chapter!

 

**Chapter 18 - Nachreisen**

 

Ken stood in the doorway of the Iwatodai dorm, and his first thought was how different it felt. Everything looked like it had last time – the TV, the sofas and the table were where they'd been when he'd left; the fridge and cooking area hadn't moved; the décor was the same – but it was like the spirit of the place had changed. It felt empty, even though there were plenty of shoes near the door. From what he'd heard of Mitsuru-senpai and Minato-senpai, Ken knew he wasn't imagining the feeling, and he took a bracing breath. He'd known this wouldn't be easy.

Some of SEES was there, smiling as he walked forward. "Welcome back," Yukari-san greeted warmly, followed by Fuuka-san. "How are you doing?"

"Pretty good," he replied. "It's... things are still a mess, with my Persona and everything, but I'm doing my best."

"That's all any of us can ask for." She gave him a piercing look. "Are you sure you want to come back? I'm not sure what you've been told, but things are a mess right now. It's not going to be like before, and none of us would blame you if you wanted to sit things out until you're comfortable."

Ken was well aware of that. When he'd told Abe-san of his decision, the operator had made it very clear that there wouldn't be any coddling. "If you want to take things easy, stay here," he'd said. "If you go back, you're walking into the fire, and you'll have to look out for yourself. If you get burned, it's on you."

Ken had taken an extra day to think his decision over, but that hadn't changed his mind. The fear was still there. Fear that he wouldn't measure up, that he'd get someone hurt, that his honest-to-God best would fall short and he'd make things worse for everyone. Even now, his heart was fluttering and his fingers wanted to shake so badly he was sure the others could see it.

But he wouldn't stop now that he'd come this far. He remembered Maeda-san's advice, and let the fear sit in his stomach. He let himself feel it, but didn't let it make the decisions for him. "Things won't get better if I keep running away," he told them. "I know about what happened, about Minato-senpai and Aigis. The Kirijo staff told me about Kirijo-san dying. I can't sit around and pretend it's not my problem. I want to be here and help however I can."

Fuuka-san nodded. "Then we'll find a way for you to help. Do you need any help with your things? Your room hasn't been touched since you left."

Ken smiled. That was probably an offhand comment, but it had been enough to quell his fluttering stomach. He still had a place here. SEES had been pulling for him, waiting for him to come back. After everything, they hadn't doubted him. That meant more than he could put into words.

Even if he couldn't say it, he could show it.

"Thank you for the offer, but I can handle it. I want to stretch my legs out anyway. Do you know if Akihiko-senpai is around? There's something I want to ask him."

"You're in luck. He's upstairs." Nails scratched on the nearby floor, and Fuuka-san chuckled. "And someone else has been waiting for you."

Ken looked over, not sure what she meant, but a second later a familiar ball of white fur darted toward them from the kitchen – from Koromaru's food bowl. "Hey Koro," Ken greeted, kneeling to take the dog's impact in his chest. The canine nudged him with his nose and licked him enthusiastically, but also walked around him like he wanted to check him over.

They all chuckled, and Ken's fears dissipated entirely. Even Koro had been waiting for him to come back.

Ken grabbed his things and went to his room. Everything had indeed been left how he'd had it, and it only took a few minutes to refill his dresser with clothes and familiarize himself with the room. Then he went to find Akihiko-senpai.

"Why Shinji fought?" the teen repeated, clearly not expecting the question.

"That's right."

"Why do you ask?"

Ken hesitated. There was no way to convey the experience he'd had when visiting his father. He wasn't sure he could even make sense of it himself, or that he could say how much his perspective had changed as a result. So he went with an easier approach. "Shinjiro-senpai protected me from Sakaki," Ken began. "He tried to talk me down when I threatened him, when I accused him of killing my mom, and even at the end he put me before his own safety. Why did he do that? And how did he get such a strong Persona in the first place?"

Akihiko-senpai looked a bit pale. "He was stubborn. Driven. He was always like that, right from the beginning."

"But why about me? Do you think it was guilt? Was he trying to make up for what happened before? There were other ways he could have made amends."

"Maybe. It's hard to say right now."

Ken understood. With Mitsuru-senpai so busy with the Kirijo Group, Akihiko-senpai must have taken on the work of dorm management, on top of whatever else he could handle. He was a hell of a worker, but even he must be tired. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offload a bunch of questions on you as soon as I got here."

"It's okay. If it helps, then I don't mind."

"Right, but I'm sure you're busy. Could we talk when you've got some time?"

"Definitely."

Ken nodded and left the room. That could have gone better, but there was only so much he could do on his first day back. If he couldn't get answers yet, then he'd keep working at becoming stronger. Whatever he could do here, he didn't want to break his new routine and falter when he got back into the field.

To get the most of his exercise time, he took Koro out and began at a jog, then elevated into a run around the block, going further out at each street. Koro kept up easily, barking what felt like encouragement, and Ken grinned through the exertion. When he finally stopped to rest, dripping sweat and panting, Koro nudged him and indicated that he should follow at a brisk pace that kept Ken's heart rate up. Four blocks later brought them to a familiar shrine. It had been Koro's old home, and where the caretaker had been killed by a Shadow. The grounds were still clean, but didn't have the same gleam of attention given to them: the steps weren't as well swept, the _torii_ not as attended to, and even the great tree wasn't as vibrant.

And it wasn't just the shrine grounds. People were coming and going, more than there had been the times when Ken had come here to be alone, but the air of distress was heavy enough to feel. A young couple with a baby between them talked quietly about how much they should donate, hoping that the gods would intervene and "help him." A haggard salaryman clenched his hands together in prayer, a wedding ring in his fingers and tears on his face. Two children stood by their mother, who looked exhausted with dark rings under red-rimmed eyes, and no one needed an explanation when the children asked her when Daddy would wake up. And a young woman, whom Ken recognized as one of Yukari-san's friends, was flipping through a prayer book with shaking hands.

Ken remembered her talks with Yukari-san, about how a boy she liked but was too shy to talk to had asked her out, and how happy she'd been to accept.

That had only been a few months ago.

Every person bore a tragedy, and put together there was more pain than the grounds could contain. Ken's fists clenched as he watched them, angry that so many people were hurting. These people didn't know about Shadows and the Dark Hour, or about why their loved ones were Lost. All they had were questions without answers, and the best they could do was endure until the Lost found their way back. When would that be? Would it ever happen?

Ken hated that he couldn't help them. Never mind that SEES was doing its best and things had gotten worse, but Ken was furious at himself for not being strong enough, right now, to help. That he hadn't even thought of helping when he could.

Koromaru nipped his calf, giving a reproachful look. Before Ken could apologize for letting his thoughts turn dark, Koromaru trotted into the shrine grounds. He went to the children by their mother and licked their hands and faces, prancing around as they laughed and giggled. He wriggled happily as they pet his ears and stroked his fur, and the mother's face eased into a tired, but happy, smile. Then Koromaru walked to the salaryman and looked up until the man broke down and hugged the dog, crying into his fur. Koro waited patiently until the man finished, and when he stood up he nodded to himself as though he'd gotten an answer he'd been looking for.

Koromaru went to each person, even those who'd newly arrived. Sometimes he played and darted about, other times he let people hug him, and other times still he just wagged his tail and listened. No one was immune to his efforts, and soon the air of the shrine changed as people marvelled at the dog, murmurs spreading amidst laughter and chatter.

Ken watched from the shrine entrance, knowing he was seeing something important. The problems these people had weren't solved by playing with Koromaru, no matter how much he might want. They would return to their lives and their loved ones would still be Lost, their burdens awaiting them, and they would be without answers until something changed.

But just because Koro couldn't fix the root cause, that didn't mean he couldn't help ease the weight. He gave these people an outlet to their frustrations and pain. He endured beside them and gave them a change in perspective. And each one left a bit stronger, perhaps a bit happier. Each person would persist a little longer – maybe long enough to see their loved ones to recover.

That had been Koro's point, Ken knew. At the worst moments in life, when everything you loved dropped out from under you and left you raw, you had to keep going, even just a bit longer. Hope persisted when everything around these people was telling them to quit, and Koromaru was reminding them to keep hanging onto that hope.

A breeze whispered across Ken's soul, a flicker of light on the periphery. He dug deeper on that point and wondered if this had been the dog's focus from the very beginning.

Koromaru had been discovered when a Shadow attacked this shrine and killed the caretaker. Koromaru's will had been so strong he'd manifested a Persona, Cerberus, to fight back. But Ken had learned Greek mythology from Mom and in school, and Cerberus was a servant of the gods, not a rabid demon – it defended the gates to the underworld, but it wasn't cruel or predatory. Furthermore, Hades wasn't the same as the Christian Hell. The ancient Greeks saw the underworld as a place of peace and rest, where the dead found solace from their lives of toil, and it was only specific figures who angered the gods who suffered in the afterlife.

Was that why Koro fought? Not out of vengeance for his deceased master or out of survival instinct against a Shadow, but because he was defending this place? He knew people came here for guidance, for advice that might show them what they needed to do to move forward. If the Shadow had survived, would it have preyed upon those who came here? How bad would things be now if those who were seeking guidance from the gods were instead opening themselves up to a Shadow?

Koromaru had stopped that. And more than just stop it, he'd come back to ensure that people were doing okay even at their worst. Same as how Maeda-san and the Kirijo Group extended their hands to the Lost and their families, to try and stem the pain until the reprieve came.

As the dog played with another young couple, the pieces clicked into place. In times of pain and uncertainty, people needed something to believe in. The shrine was a place they could do that. Not only could they convene with whichever gods they prayed to, but they could leave happier than when they came. Charity and kindnesses freely given would give people the strength to keep going. Those kindnesses would spread beyond those who Koromaru saw right now, and in that way the darkness around them was a little bit lighter.

Mom was the same way, always kind and caring to everyone around her. More than just listening to people's problems, she would keep in touch with them and try to help them until things got better. Ken hadn't thought anything of it at the time, but she'd made so many friends that she was always going to someone's house to help out, or receiving cards and well wishes as thanks, or being invited to birthdays and weddings. She'd talked about the importance of charity and temperance in equal measure, but that had never stopped her from wanting to help whoever she could.

Ken smiled at the memory, seeing her again for an instant, feeling her hands on his face and hearing her happy laughter.

At this place of the gods, while Koro frolicked and defied the darkness around them, Ken let go of his anger. His mind calmed, he remembered Mom, and he felt more himself, than he had... in way too long.

Along the surface of his soul, something rippled again.

* * *

Amada closed the door behind him, and Akihiko let out a breath. His hands were trembling, and he swore at his own weakness, now of all times. Amada's questions weren't unexpected, and from what Akihiko had heard of the kid's progress from Abe-san, the line of inquiry made sense. But Akihiko hadn't expected the questions to hit him like this. Thoughts of the orphanage crept into his mind, and he ruthlessly pushed them down.

He couldn't afford to get lost down memory lane; he had a job to do.

It was hard to keep his head straight though. Nothing was going right. Tossing Ikutsuki's office had yielded nothing, and Yamagishi reinforced how unlikely it was that they were getting into Ikutsuki's computer. The techs at the Kirijo compound were still reeling from Kirijo-san's death, their hands full with the house of cards tumbling around them alongside Aigis's complicated reconstruction. Takeba had talked to him about Arisato two days ago, saying, "He's not looking good. Junpei kicked the bee hive a little and got something out of him, but it seems like he's trying to shut us out."

Akihiko had wanted to throttle Arisato when he heard that, but with the dorm's smaller problems piling up around them, Akihiko had gotten sandbagged. He'd worked through the night to get everything up to par, and now Amada's simple questions had put him on his back foot.

He'd shadowboxed, gone for runs, kept to his routine that was supposed to clear his mind, but instead he felt like he was running full-tilt and not getting anywhere.

"Screw this," he muttered, getting up and leaving his room. Even if exercise hadn't helped him get some answers yet, he wasn't going to give up. He pulled his gloves on and headed for the stairs, but stopped when he heard some familiar footsteps coming up toward him. He waited, biting back his temper as best he could when Arisato saw him and flinched.

"Still alive?" Akihiko asked when he saw the food in his kouhai's hands, unable to keep the venom from his voice.

"For now," Arisato muttered back. He trudged up the stairs to the landing, unable to meet Akihiko's eyes.

"Are you going to try for anything more than that? Or are you cashing your chips in?"

"I'm not sure what good trying for more would do at this point."

Akihiko had to restrain from shouting. Junpei had talked to him about his meeting with Arisato, how the discussion had left the reckless teen fuming. Akihiko understood the sentiment now. Where was the kid who thought on his feet and took it all with a smirk? How could anything be bad enough to send one of their best into the pits like this? What had happened when that Persona came out?

Akihiko wanted to lay into Arisato, but more familiar footsteps came from behind him, from the girls' floor. He turned to see Mitsuru descending the staircase, and she stopped when she saw them. Akihiko's growing anger dropped out of him in an instant when he took in her appearance. Her clothes, usually pressed and crisp, were wrinkled and creased. Her posture was uncertain, her feet seeming like they didn't know where to be. Or perhaps where they were _allowed_ to be. And her hair, perhaps her greatest pride of all, was frizzy and unkempt, lacking the glow of health and surety. Worst of all her were eyes, red-rimmed and glassy and... _timid_.

Akihiko had known her since grade school. He'd been there when her mother died, when her father buried himself in work. He'd been at her side since all this shit started in April and made their already-complicated lives even crazier. He'd _never_ seen her this bad.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked.

Akihiko wanted to shake the sound of her voice out of his head. None of her confidence was there, none of her strength or certainty. Soft and unsteady, like she was asking permission to speak. It was... wrong. "We're fine," he replied without thinking.

Arisato shuffled back toward his room, having made it around the corner and able to escape. He kept his eyes away from them and looked like he was about to run away.

Akihiko wanted to tear into him, but Mitsuru cut him off. "Make sure you're eating well," she murmured, her voice cracking like edges of glass rubbing together. "I know this is hard. Look after yourself."

Arisato didn't say a word. If anything, she'd given him permission to leave, and he slinked down the hall to his room without speaking.

Akihiko's fury tripled. His fists were clenched so hard that his wrists hurt. Someone could argue that Arisato needed time to recover, but that's not what Akihiko just saw: What he saw was a coward running from something he couldn't stand to face.

"Don't be hard on him," Mitsuru told him, apparently knowing where his mind went. "What he's gone through, it's probably the worst thing that could happen to him."

"Everyone's had a rough go of it," Akihiko grated. "We didn't get a pass when things went to hell. He doesn't either."

"Maybe, but I think this is different. It has to be handled differently, without us pushing him."

"Wait until he decides he wants to come back? Do we have that kind of time?"

"He's dealing with that Persona. Thanatos. It's different from what he's used to, and it might be affecting him in ways we can't detect. We can't discount its effects on him, or what it might do if he's pushed too hard. You might not like it, but this is better that we let him handle it on his own. A mistake might result in him accidentally destroying the dorm, or us completely losing any chance we have of fighting."

Akihiko wasn't going to dispute the effects Thanatos was having. It sounded like Mitsuru had detected something through Penthesilea, and with a Persona that strong, it made sense if Arisato was struggling to keep it in check. Especially if he was stuck in the past and his will was being undermined, like what happened to Amada after Shinji died.

But if they knew this much, then they had to _do something_ about it. "You'd be the best person to talk to him then," Akihiko pointed out.

She looked away, seeming smaller than ever. "I... I know."

Akihiko didn't know what to do, and the impact of that fact hit him like a haymaker. He'd wondered how she was coping, and now he had his answer: she wasn't. She was drowning in grief, she was distancing herself from them out of some sense of necessity, and her ragged, bloody wounds continued to bleed. She'd lost her father, her boyfriend was a mess, and she was losing herself with each passing day. Akihiko was staring at the reality that he was losing his best friend and there was _nothing_ he could do about it. "Get some rest," he advised woodenly. "I won't go hard on him."

"I appreciate it." She turned and went back to her room, leaving him standing in the hall trying to process everything. It only took him a few minutes to do so, and his conclusion was starkly grim. Everything was falling apart around him. He wanted to believe that he could exert some control over this situation, that if he fought hard enough that things would tilt back to normal, but if he told Mitsuru to get back in the saddle and fight, it wouldn't get anywhere. He couldn't point SEES in any direction when he didn't know where the next threat was coming from. And with those closest to him breaking down, no matter how hard he tried, all he could do was watch. This felt dangerously similar to when Shinji had shut him out.

He didn't know how long he stood there, trying to deny what he dreaded was happening. He only snapped out of his thoughts when Junpei returned from the store. Not wanting to deal with anyone, Akihiko retreated to his room.

He hated himself for running like Arisato had.

Akihiko did his best to put everything into perspective and work through the problems before him. He couldn't keep his anger down, but this time he didn't try. It seemed everyone had been keeping their secrets lately, and bottling everything up only made things worse. He was furious at how things had turned out, and he wasn't going to pretend otherwise. With this resolution, a plan formed. Something simple, something he could put into action on his own. Something that would get these feelings out. His knuckles itched when he worked out the last details. He knew what the risks of the plan were, and he said a silent apology to Mitsuru; he wasn't going to be able to honour her wishes this time.

His one precaution was a text message to everyone except Arisato: _"If you hear anything at midnight or during the Dark Hour, ignore it."_

Simple and misleading, anyone would assume Akihiko was going to go on a rampage against the Shadows. Of anyone in the dorm, he was the most able to fight on his own right now, and they trusted him not to do anything stupid.

Except that anyone who made that assumption would be wrong this time.

He did his homework and listened to lectures to kill time. He exercised and shadowboxed to keep his anger stoked. The dorm moved around him in the same mournful pace it had for days, and he cut himself off from everyone else.

Finally, dark came. The others went to their rooms, and the Dark Hour approached.

That's when Akihiko got up, knuckles wrapped, armour in place, and mind set. He left his room, went to Arisato's room at the end of the hall, and braced himself.

Last chance to walk away. Last chance to find an alternative, to do something else, to not punch a sleeping bear.

_To hell with that._

Akihiko didn't bother trying the door knob. He levelled a kick in the centre of Arisato's door so hard that the frame shook and the walls trembled. Two more blows broke the solid wood inward and in Akihiko strode. Arisato looked up, alarmed, and seemed to have been moping so much he hadn't changed out of his street clothes.

The anger twisted even more.

"Get up," Akihiko commanded. "We're going to Tartarus."

Arisato sat back down, looking away. "Give my apologies to the others, but I'm not going. I'm not safe to be around."

Akihiko let the fury bleed into his voice. "You misunderstand. I'm not talking about a normal raid, and the others aren't involved. You and me are going. Right now."

"That's not wise. If I lose control of Thanatos, I could–"

" _Get_. _Up_." Akihiko took two steps closer, his every fibre radiating a challenge that Arisato seemed to be picking up on. "We're going. Right now. You can walk there, or I can drag you, but your vacation's over."

Arisato stared at him, caught between being angry about the dismissal of his problems and understanding just how serious a threat this was. His sensibilities won out and he got dressed, grabbed his Evoker, and joined Akihiko in the hallway. "Was breaking my door necessary?"

"It got your attention. Let's go."

The walk to Tartarus was uncomfortable. The Dark Hour rolled over them, and Akihiko watched the corners and streets for Shadows. In some way he wanted them to attack, to let him vent, but he also wanted to keep his edge. Arisato's hands clenched and unclenched, and every now and again he shook his head like he was hearing something Akihiko couldn't. Was that Thanatos whispering in his ear, trying to get out? If so, then Mitsuru's senses were dead on, and the Persona's influence was getting stronger.

Akihiko hadn't forgotten how Thanatos had fought Aigis, what it had done to her and the destruction it had wrought. That thing getting loose looked like a serious risk now, and it would take all of them to rein it in if that happened. And that was assuming that all it did was get loose. If it broke Arisato's will down, the havoc it could wreak was unimaginable, and even if  SEES could stop it, Arisato would probably be dead. Without that ace against the Shadows, they would really be screwed.

Problems this big and no one was addressing them.

It was time for everyone to get real and stop running.

The two reached the bottom floor in silence, the unearthly glow inside Tartarus almost tranquil. Arisato looked pale, clenching and unclenching his hands. His face was dotted with sweat. "What are we doing here?"

"That new Persona of yours," Akihiko began. "How strong is it? Is it becoming hard to handle?"

He flinched. "That's... one way to put it."

"Don't mince words. Tell me straight: Are you at risk? Is that thing getting stronger? What do you need to get back on your feet? How can we help?"

Arisato looked like he wanted to nod. Instead, he shivered. "This isn't a good time, Senpai."

Akihiko snorted. "Too bad. You didn't give Aigis any sympathy before you ripped into her when you found her in your room, and you were on Amada's back the second he stepped through the door after Shinji died. You don't get to pull rank when it's convenient for you, and then push for pity when it isn't." He stepped forward, eyes hard. "You saw Mitsuru earlier. She's a mess. We're fighting blind without you. What happened to you when Kirijo-san died, when you fought Aigis, it sucks that it hit you this hard. I get that you've had a rough time. But you have to step up and get back in the game, even if it's just to get help. We're the only ones who can fight the Shadows, and we need you to make sense of what's going on. We don't have the luxury of sitting this out."

Arisato shook his head. "I told you, I'm dangerous to be around. Find someone else."

"There isn't anyone else, unless you expect us to ask Strega for an assist."

"Of course not." Even Arisato's indignation sounded weak.

"Then we're it."

Arisato shook his head and backed away. Tartarus rumbled around him. The light of the room began to dim, flickering like a dying light bulb.

Akihiko knew he'd pushed things as far as he could. He gave the command, springing his plan: "Let it out."

Arisato blinked, clearly not believing what he'd just heard. "I... what?"

"Thanatos. Let it out," Akihiko repeated, slower this time. "It won't go away if you're afraid of it, and you look like it's getting stronger. It needs to be stopped, especially if it's tearing you up."

"You want to fight it? Senpai, that's crazy."

"It's just a Persona. A strong one maybe, but it can be beaten like anything else."

Arisato clenched his head, and a low growl echoed around Tartarus. The sense of something else, angry and powerful, rose. "You're not Aigis, Senpai," he grated out. "If you get hit, you're dead. If you want to fight Thanatos, get the others to back you up."

"It's just us here. Let it out."

"It'll kill you. And the others will kill me when they find out."

Akihiko didn't keep the scorn out of his voice. "Why do you care about them? You're already running from them. If I die, it's just be one more reason for you to hide under your bed. One more thing you can mope about. And it's not like you'll ruin anything with Mitsuru; you're already killing her with this pity act of yours. Let Thanatos out. If this is your last fight as one of us, then make it count. Have the spine to put a few more nails in your coffin and settle the matter for good."

Darkness spread and began to solidify. Arisato had turned pale. He was shaking. "You... you–"

Akihiko took another step forward. His Evoker was in hand, thunder rumbling around him. "Show me what you can do, Arisato," he commanded. "Show me that trusting you with SEES, with Mitsuru, wasn't a huge mistake."

Darkness flashed around Arisato, and the entire room dimmed. "I can't stop it," he choked out as his shadow turned black as the void. Chains clinked and space warped as Thanatos formed, coffins floating, armour polished, sword sharp. Its glare was like a weight on the chest, and its growl rattled between the ribs.

Akihiko grinned back fiercely. The fear the Persona evoked was a natural, biological reaction; all living things feared death. He couldn't chose to not be afraid, not when every cell in his body was screaming at the prospect of immediate destruction. But he'd been afraid before. Back when he'd first awakened Polydeuces, when he'd first fought the Shadows, fear had become a constant companion. He'd lived with it on the streets, overcome it every day and night since the fire, and it wasn't going to stop him now.

He set his Evoker and pulled the trigger. White radiance pushed back the darkness, and his Persona formed. It was a challenge, as real as his trash-talk before.

Thanatos accepted the thrown gauntlet by hurling a coffin at them. Polydeuces tumbled out of the way, but the chains whipped out and caught its leg, picking it up and sending it into the wall. Akihiko focused and threw lightning at the spectre, but the bolts broke on upraised coffins. Chains snapped at him, sending him running and zigzagging to avoid the attacks. Polydeuces vanished from where it was and manifested at his side, shrugging off the chains and empowering its master.

Akihiko lined up another blast of lightning, this time forking it to hit from different angles. The blast broke the upraised coffin in half, scoring Thanatos's armour.

The victory was short lived. Using the same trick as it did against Aigis, Thanatos fired its sword at them faster than the eye could track. The blade punched into Polydeuces' leg to the crossguard, pinning the Persona to the ground. Then the two halves of the destroyed coffin flew forward, colliding with Polydeuces so hard the force knocked Akihiko from his feet.

Polydeuces broke down into crackling lightning and bright wisps.

Akihiko doubled over, the backlash of Polydeuces's defeat tearing into his mind. He tried to keep moving, but Thanatos played a completely new card. Its sable surcoat sank into its own shadow and flashed up around Akihiko, wrapping him in cold, skin-crawling fabric. Akihiko immediately tried fighting free, but his feet were entangled and the material crawled up his waist, stomach, torso. His arms were bound to his chest, his Evoker under his chin as the darkness closed in on him.

He called to Polydeuces, struggled with all his might for one more shot. Power and lightning tingled through his body, casting his vision white, but the darkness overpowered him

The last thing he saw was Arisato clenching his head, looking on in abject horror. Then Thanatos closed its mailed fist, and the surcoat tightened.

Everything went black.

* * *

 

Minato sank to his knees, stricken mute. He watched the bound form that had been Senpai struggle less and less. Then it stopped moving entirely.

He could feel Thanatos above him. The Persona had been taking up more and more of his mind since the fight with Aigis, no longer under his control as his pain had broken his will. It wasn't a servant like the others, willing to wait to be summoned. It had a purpose of its own, towering pride that had been stung by Akihiko-senpai's brash challenge. It would not suffer insolence, especially not from someone living, and it would not be stopped by a mere human vessel.

Minato couldn't pull back on the Persona. He wasn't strong enough, especially not here in Tartarus where Thanatos was even stronger. It was too late to stop the fight, to change what he'd let happen.

Just like how he'd let Kirijo-san die, let Ikutsuki escape and beaten Aigis down, he'd killed Akihiko-senpai. He couldn't go back to the others now. He wasn't physically able to anymore. The pressure of Thanatos's presence drove him to the floor and would keep him there. He'd be a puppet of this monstrosity.

Was that any different from being a Shadow? He'd truly belong here, in Tartarus. Thanatos would be free of his control. It would carry out its mission unimpeded, and Minato could feel it pulling him upward, toward the top of the tower.

There was no pain. No grief at the idea of not seeing the others. No remorse about never giving Mitsuru-senpai that much-needed apology. Not even the desire to stop Thanatos, or struggle to live.

There was nothing.

This really... was the end.

* * *

Darkness and quiet. Akihiko expected death to be something else, something more painful. Maybe somewhere with fire and brimstone, or a blasted wasteland. But this was... nothing. Not pleasant or unpleasant, not hot or cold. He could stand, but he couldn't move around, and opening his eyes was the same as leaving them closed. He could feel the world around him, like he was in water and the current brushed him in passing. Was he moving with it? Was he stationary? What was holding him in place?

"Where am I?" he asked. The echo of his voice circled him, the emphases and tenses changing each time. After a moment, the words grew louder.

_"Where are you?"_

Akihiko's eyes narrowed. The presence behind that voice was familiar, but the voice itself was foreign. Polydeuces had never spoken to him before, only giving inclinations and nudges. It communicated on a level deeper than words, like Penthesilea apparently did with Mitsuru. He knew Polydeuces wasn't asking where he was physically located – not that he had an answer – but rather where his mind was right now. "Did Thanatos kill me?"

_"It has not. Not yet."_

"I need to beat that thing. How can I get out of here?"

_"Why do you want to? You failed already."_ The words were thick with derision. _"You will again if you fight it as you are."_

"I can't afford to fail. Too much is riding on this."

_"Higher stakes do not entitle one to victory. A dog does not readily bring down a bear, no matter how much it might want to."_

"It's a Persona," Akihiko insisted. "It must have a weakness."

_"Perhaps so, but why would you think you are the one to exploit such a weakness? Even if you found it, would you be able to win?"_

"Why are you asking that? You should know."

_"I do know, and that is why I say your efforts are in vain. As you are, you cannot defeat it."_

"So I should just run away?"

_"That would not be unfamiliar to you, would it? You have grown quite apt at running."_

Before Akihiko could argue, the darkness hardened into concrete under his feet. Light spread around him like he was on a stage. A body thudded at his feet, wearing a patchwork dress he recognized immediately. _Miki_. The knife in his heart twisted. He could smell the smoke again, the charred wood of the orphanage, the sickening scent of burnt flesh. Blue and red lights flashed around him, disembodied commands from the emergency crews, but he stood apart from it, the same now as he had then. No one could bring back the dead.

The lights dimmed. A gunshot echoed, and another body fell nearby. This one wore a beanie and a pea coat, both soaked in blood. _Shinji_. Mocking laughter – Sakaki – echoed around him, encircling him like chains. Akihiko wanted to look away, but his eyes wouldn't. "Stop it," he demanded, voice shaking. His legs wouldn't move; he couldn't get away.

_"What do you fight for?"_

"To kill Shadows," he replied on reflex. "To protect people."

_"You lie, even to yourself."_

"It's not a lie!"

_"Yes, it is. I know your desire best; I was born of it. You wanted not to protect others, but to protect yourself from your failures."_

Another gunshot, another body. Kirijo-san this time. Ikutsuki's laughter sounded in the dark.

Four more bodies collapsed near Miki. His friends from the orphanage. Kimura, Minami, Nakano, Ueno. Lovers of animals, gentle, kind. They'd helped him and Shinji look after each other and the really young kids. They'd helped cook and steal and get by with what little they'd had, and they had been part of his family.

They'd died slowly, trapped in the back room when the fire started. They'd tried clawing their way through the door, fingernails torn off as the heat grew and they had nowhere to go. It took a long time for them to die from the heat and fire – they hadn't died from smoke inhalation like the others. Their screams still kept Akihiko awake at night.

_"You did not desire power to protect those around you. You wanted to avenge the dead."_

"I could do it if I was strong," Akihiko protested numbly, realising only now how hollow those words were.

_"Then you are as strong as you need to be. You cannot prevent deaths from happening if you are always looking to the past, for what is gained by looking back without attending to the future? If you seek to avenge the dead, then why be strong enough to prevent them from dying? You do not look to the present or think of the future so you might save those around you, therefore you are strong enough as you are – you will watch as others die beyond your reach."_

The words hit him to the core. His every failure flashed before his eyes, from being knocked out by Aigis and watching Arisato fight on his own, to the Shadow that had gotten the best of him in April. Every argument with Shinji that had failed to make a difference, each time consoling himself with more training. Every time he'd looked at Amada and Ikutsuki and known something was off, but didn't act because he couldn't be certain he could solve the problem.

The bodies disappeared, but new visions appeared. Akihiko's horror grew:

He saw Mitsuru, left alone and hollowed out by her pain, unable to find the will to keep going. She couldn't bring up the strength to summon her Persona or fight anymore, and she began to transmogrify during the Dark Hour. Her mental state deteriorated – medication only making things worse – until she picked up a letter opener and sliced her arm from elbow to wrist, bathing herself in red.

He saw Junpei and Amada fighting against Strega, trying to rally around him and pull things together, only to be killed. Amada faltered, and Sakaki gleefully blew him away with lightning. Junpei stood his ground, but wasn't strong enough to fight off Moros, and was crushed under the Persona's boots.

He saw Arisato, fighting alone against something he'd never asked for and running out of willpower. Thanatos would use him as a vessel to fight and kill everything that lived, becoming unstoppable as Arisato, locked inside his own mind, was forced to watch until it drove him insane.

Every fight, a failure in disguise. Every victory, a half measure.

_"One so self-centred cannot defeat an enemy like that. At best, one can fight and lose until one is brought low for good. These are the limits of Sanada Akihiko. This is where he belongs, and this is where he will stay."_

Akihiko clenched his fists, willing the pain to stop. There were two sides to everything, and while Polydeuces was right, it wasn't completely right. Akihiko had fought every battle on his own, and while Mitsuru had gotten angry at him for his independence, she'd also taught him how to grow. Had he really gotten this far by not learning? Or had he learned and he just wasn't applying it?

_"What do you fight for?"_ The question had a tone of finality to it, the conclusion to his warped desires and blind drive.

Akihiko set his feet in place and squared his shoulders. "To help those around me."

A long pause. Then, _"You have spent years as you are now, only to fail. Do you believe that you can change enough to succeed now? That your empty words are enough?"_

Akihiko focused on his experiences since April, and the visions shifted to reflect what he recalled. Talking to Amada and Arisato, sparring with Junpei, and throwing the ball for Koromaru. Looking out for Takeba and the other kouhai in school, smiling as their antics brought a warmth and colour to his life he hadn't had before. Watching from the sidelines as Mitsuru gently shed her armour and let down her walls, allowing Arisato into her life and growing beyond what even she'd believed she could be.

Saying his farewells to Shinji, who had carried a burden for years and suffered for one mistake, yet stood and fought in the face of death itself. Who had known his life was going to end, yet bravely decided on what terms it would end. Who saved Amada and had given him hope and the chance of redemption.

"It didn't matter who was around me before," Akihiko admitted. "I just wanted to be stronger so I wouldn't be a victim. But cutting people out wasn't the way to get stronger, back then or now." He brought his thoughts up and let them hit him:

Amada's questions about Shinji had hurt, but they'd also showed how far the kid had come in only a few weeks. Maybe he'd grown enough to rejoin SEES, to manifest a Persona and make peace with his past – especially if Akihiko stepped up and helped.

Akihiko had friends at school who were breaking apart because their families and loved ones were being hit by the Shadows, becoming the Lost. Akihiko couldn't change that on his own, but he could remember the friends whose families had come back after the Shadows were defeated. The tears of happiness, the reconciliations, how their bonds emerged stronger, those were all real things. Those who were suffering now, he could help them too – all he had to do was keep fighting and bring down the next Shadow.

Arisato was cracking under the weight of Thanatos and a destiny greater than anything anyone had seen before. It was too big a burden to shoulder for any one person. But that was why such a burden shouldn't be shouldered alone. SEES had become what it was through its successes and its failures together, and every day was a new chance to answer the questions they had.

The past was set in stone, but the future was pure potential. All one had to do was reach forward in the present and take it. "My words aren't empty," Akihiko declared, power tingling in his veins. "I won't run or give up this time. Just because I didn't get it before doesn't mean I don't now."

The darkness rang with silence. Then it grew brighter, rumbling with thunder all around him. _"Where are you?"_ the Persona asked, its voice strong.

"I'm in the here and now. Where I need to be to see this thing through. With Mitsuru, with Arisato, with everyone. No matter what it takes, I'll protect them." He focused on those words, feeling lighter and stronger than he had in months.

Polydeuces appeared before him, glowing so bright its form became indistinct. _"With what power?"_

"My own, and I'll keep at it until that's enough." The power grew, ringing in his ears.

_"Then make your vow."_

Akihiko drew himself up. The words came to mind as easily as breathing. Words he'd chosen years ago, scribed onto his very soul as his mantra.

Words that had become his second chance.

* * *

Minato stirred from his despair when he felt the pressure against his face. Not the pull of Thanatos, but something else. Something different, coming from where Senpai's body still stood. He looked up, his heart tearing at the sight, and the feeling got stronger. Wind and air pressure, and the smell of ozone like after a thunderstorm.

Thanatos responded to it, glaring and growling. Its chains rattled together, but it was drowned out by the rising sense of power. The air crackled and hissed as the encloaked form glowed and split.

" ** _Give me a place to stand_** –" a voice intoned, rich with power and echoing throughout the room.

Minato couldn't believe his ears. This... was a Persona. It felt like Polydeuces, but it was different and so much stronger that he had to be wrong. But faith in his friend and the faintest flicker of hope pulled a name from his mouth in a ragged whisper: "Akihiko-senpai?"

"– ** _and I will move the earth_**." A gunshot went off. The cloak shredded and blew outward with gale force, pushing Minato and Thanatos back. Thunder exploded throughout the room as a blazing figure formed in the air. Thanatos's aura of fear broke in the face of this being, and Tartarus itself shuddered and rang like a row of struck bells.

Akihiko-senpai walked forward, power blazing around him and burning away the shadows. "Caesar," he named the Persona that hovered above him. Silver armour, an incandescent sword in one hand and a globe in the other, Persona and master stood unbowed before Thanatos.

Minato couldn't believe what he was seeing, but he instinctively knew what this was: Ascension. A rebirth of one's psyche. It wasn't like his own Personas, which were mixed and matched to his will, but a revelation at one's very core to change how they perceived the world, and their Persona adjusting to this new truth.

In the space of a few minutes, Akihiko-senpai had broken free from Thanatos's trap and come back better than ever. He looked stronger, clearer of purpose, everything down to his footsteps radiating power. "We're not finished yet," he said as Caesar crackled.

Thanatos roared at Senpai's defiance, chains whipping forward to entangle Caesar. Caesar's globe blazed bright and lightning tore through the chains, following them back and searing Thanatos's armour. Thanatos shook itself and hurled coffins again, but they were blown aside or cut in half before connecting. Any shadows that tried to darken and approach were pushed back by Caesar's glowing armour. Senpai stared at Thanatos, firmly on equal footing with the towering entity. Senpai walked forward steadily, Caesar floating next to him. Thanatos's fury doubled, its sword ready, but Senpai ignored it.

"Two in harmony surpasses one in perfection," Senpai began, his voice cutting through the noise Thanatos was causing. "That's been the Kirijo Group's motto for years. Mitsuru would say it to me and Shinji whenever we tried to do our own thing. It used to drive him crazy."

Minato shivered. Thanatos's presence in his mind had been diminished, but what little control he's regained was frail as a thread under scissors.

"I always thought she threw it around to make us work together," Senpai continued. "But I think I get it now. No one, with a Persona or not, is so strong that they can't get better with someone's help, and no one is so without flaws that they don't need other people. Thanatos is powerful, but it doesn't work with others, does it? Even I can feel that."

Thanatos re-manifested its coffins and stomped forward.

"It hates the idea of being flawed, because that makes it real, and real things can be beaten. Tell me what its weaknesses are."

The Persona screamed in Minato's mind, trying to crush any attempt to say, to think, what those weaknesses might be. Its pressure grew to levels of crush depth, but Caesar's armour glowed and pushed back. Minato gasped with the breathing room and spoke. "It... it can't conceive of... help. Not giving or receiving from any other Persona... or any other thing. It's strong, but... alone. Find its weaknesses and it fails, because... it kills everyone else around it. Foe or ally."

Thanatos stepped back, its threats diminishing and its presence weakening. Senpai kept walking closer. Thanatos roared and leapt forward, prepared to kill.

"No," Minato grated out, pulling back. Dim voices from the sea of his soul joined his, reinforcing a will that had brought demons and demigods to heel. He reached out to stop Thanatos in its tracks. It felt like trying to stop a full-speed freight train, but the Persona froze in mid-step. "You're... not... I'm in control."

Every fight he'd been through flashed through his head. Every struggle, all the uncertainties and mistakes, had brought him here. The people who relied on him, his friends who needed him, even at his worst he wasn't going to let them down. If he did after getting this far, he'd have failed. And if he failed, this _thing_ would get loose.

He was still Arisato Minato. Even if his family had died and he'd let it break him, even if he'd failed Kirijo-san and Mitsuru-senpai, even if he'd hurt the only people he had left in his life, Arisato Minato wasn't going to lose now.

Minato grabbed the shreds of his will and pulled back on Thanatos. The Persona railed against his efforts, fought like a mad beast to keep from being pushed down. The struggle was enough to blind Minato with sweat, and he was afraid the best he could manage was a stalemate. Given that his very soul was on the line, that would be as bad as losing.

But Senpai's hand clasped his forearm. Senpai's other hand came up and patted him on the shoulder.

Such a presence was like a pillar for his psyche. His will reinforced and Thanatos buckled, breaking down into darkness and retreating into whence it came. Even when Minato stopped pushing, the Persona was silent. Not a beast walking its cage and looking for another opportunity, but an animal cowed by the presence of the pack leader.

It was over, and Minato felt so weak that he would have fallen if Senpai hadn't pulled him close and held him up.

"See? Nothing to it," Senpai told him.

Minato laughed, and the action and sound eased the weight on his shoulders by half. It was enough that he could stand on his own, though his legs were still shaky. "Thanatos beat you, you know."

Senpai stepped back and shook his head. "That was just the first round. The winner's the one who gets up one more time than the loser."

"You got a new Persona. What happened?"

"Polydeuces and I had a talk. It's... well, things worked out and he changed."

Minato could see that it wasn't just the Persona that had changed. That strength and intensity was still there, and it looked like it was there to stay.

"You're better now?" Senpai asked. "Is Thanatos under control?"

Minato nodded."I don't know if it's under control, but this is way better than before. I won't let it get away from me again, and if it gets worse, I'll let you know."

"Good." Senpai gave a sharper look. "There's something else you have to do, you know. Tonight."

Minato winced. Mitsuru-senpai. Minato knew he had to help her, but even now, with his head cleared, he had no idea how to broach the subject.

"She wants to give you your space and let you deal with things on your own terms," Senpai continued, "but she's a wreck. You saw her; she's taking everything on herself. She can't keep that up without breaking. You're the one who needs to help her."

"I... I know. I'm not trying to dodge the issue, but what about Ken and the others?"

"I'll look after them."

"I... I owe Junpei and Yukari an apology, don't I?"

"Probably, but they'll forgive you."

Senpai's tone made it clear he wasn't budging, and Minato asked hopefully, "I don't suppose you could help me? Give me some tips? Maybe work me in somehow and give me a place to start?"

"I kicked your door in and dragged you here for a fight no one else knew about," Akihiko-senpai pointed out. "There's no way she doesn't know about it by now, so do you really think she's going to listen if I tell her it was for your own good? Trust me, whatever you do will be better than if I get involved."

"So that's a no?"

"I've never had a girlfriend; what do I know? You've gotten pretty far with her already, and you need to do some of this stuff on your own."

Senpai's knowing look felt like old times, like the beach at Yakushima or when he'd pushed Mitsuru at Minato to get her mind off things. Minato smiled. He was filthy and sweaty and tired, he hadn't been eating properly, and he'd just faced down a being of death itself, but he smiled. "All right."


End file.
